


The Sudden Obliteration of Expectation

by JulietRose



Series: The Sudden Obliteration of Expectation [1]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: (kind of), 10-20k word chapters, ADHD, Abandonment Issues, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anxiety, Child Neglect, Depression, Eating Disorders, Evan Is Annoyed By Zoe: A Saga, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Larry Is Not A Bad Dad, Lots of Crying, M/M, Obligatory For Forever Scene, Panic Attacks, Past Hospitalization, Past Suicide Attempts, Pills, Protective Connor Murphy, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Weed, anger issues, f-slur, more like a slow burn that explodes, only consensual sex, there's no such thing as ooc connor, they are doing their best, unless you count alive as ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:22:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 107,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24356497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulietRose/pseuds/JulietRose
Summary: The majority of Evan’s thoughts after falling were not very coherent. Most of it was fairly obvious and to be expected after failing to kill yourself: there was the realization of what happened, the crushing sense of failure, and the pain. The pain was blinding. His head spun and it felt like gravity was working in reverse. But all of that was still preferable to what came after he went numb.
Relationships: Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy
Series: The Sudden Obliteration of Expectation [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784395
Comments: 198
Kudos: 483
Collections: DEH Fics





	1. Prologue: On the subject of tomorrows.

**Author's Note:**

> **I will not be posting warnings on individual chapters. Please read the tags.**
> 
> That being said: Rest assured, no one dies and there is a happy ending.
> 
> Also, this story started because of a vlogbrother's video of the same title in which Hank Green likens the feeling of a "sudden obliteration of expectation" to when he broke a bone as a kid. I basically wrote the first few paragraphs of this after watching that video and it snowballed from there into this 100,000+ word monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Monday

The majority of Evan’s thoughts after falling were not very coherent. Most of it was fairly obvious and to be expected after failing to kill yourself: there was the realization of what happened, the crushing sense of failure, and the pain. The pain was blinding. His head spun and it felt like gravity was working in reverse. But all of that was still preferable to what came after he went numb.

The sudden obliteration of expectation.

A wedge settled itself into the timeline of Evan Hansen’s life. He became the walking embodiment of ‘before’ and ‘after.’ But everything after this would be different now. His path was no longer clear. Evan hadn’t wanted there to be a tomorrow, and now there was an undefined number of tomorrows stretched out before him, all with great big question marks stamped over them because _what happens now?_ It was all supposed to be over now. But what he had planned on being an end had turned into a beginning, and he was not at all prepared for it.

Evan began to picture the wedge in his life as a tragically blank white cast. He tried to write the letter, first day of senior year, but the page remained as devoid of positive reinforcement as his arm. _I just wish everything was different—_

“So, what happened to your arm?”

Evan jumped, his mind instantly answering, _I tried to kill myself._ He turned to face Connor Murphy, who had both hands curled around the strap of his messenger bag. Evan somehow managed to form a reply, staring at his hands instead of his face. “Oh. I, um, I fell out of a tree, actually.”

Connor cracked a smile and gave a small snort of laughter, but it didn’t sound mean. _Actually, it sounded kind of nice._ “You fell out of a tree?” he repeated, incredulous, and Evan nodded. “That is just the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. Oh my god.”

Evan laughed awkwardly, aware that this was meant to be a joke. “I know.” _Yeah, really sad. Wanna know what makes it even sadder? It was a failed suicide attempt._

There was a pause wherein Evan’s hands got sweaty.

Connor cleared his throat. “No one’s signed your cast.” It sounded kind of rehearsed, like he’d come in here looking for Evan and had planned to say ‘How’d you break your arm?’ followed by ‘No one’s signed your cast,’ but it had gotten muddied in the middle there and he was desperately trying to get back on whatever imaginary track he’d constructed.

“No, I know.” _Because no one cares._ Evan tensed, waiting for the punchline— waiting for Connor Murphy to make fun of him just like everyone else.

Still a little rehearsed, forced-casual, “I’ll sign it.”

Evan’s eyes widened. _Please please please don’t let this be a joke._ “Oh… Um, you don’t have to.” He winced and fought back the urge to punch himself. _Shut up, shut up, shut up. Say what you mean for once in your pathetic life, you—_

“Do you have a sharpie?” Connor persisted.

Before he could stupidly deny the offer again, Evan pulled out the sharpie that had been sitting like a rock in his pocket all day. 

Connor took it and pulled Evan a bit too roughly by his broken arm. He signed it in an outsized scrawl, taking up the entire posterior side of the cast, obviously attempting to disguise the fact that there were no other signatures.

The Before/After wedge in his life was now boldly labeled “CONNOR.”

“Oh, great, thanks,” Evan whispered, unsure of how he actually felt about this. _It’s a joke. He’s bullying you. You just don’t get it because you’re so stupid and pathetic—_

“Yeah, well, now we can both pretend we have friends.”

 _Everyone knows that you don’t have friends. It’s obvious. Because who would want to be friends with the pathetic loser who tried to—_ “Friends,” Evan repeated mindlessly and without his own permission.

Connor stared at him, and Evan didn’t know what to do but stare back. Some part of his brain was reminding him that he looked like an idiot (as it constantly was), but he ignored it in favor of noting that there was a speck of brown in the pale blue of Connor’s irises. Like a tree branch obstructing the view of an endless sky.

The bell rang and Evan jumped, clutching at his chest and heaving. Connor was kind enough _(or didn’t care enough)_ to mention it as he glanced behind him to the exit. “I should go…” he said, taking a step backwards.

“Oh, okay, yeah,” Evan cleared his throat and nodded erratically, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow?” It came out as a question, hesitant, unsure, and maybe bordering on hopeful. _Please don’t let this be a joke._

Connor paused, considering Evan, and making the shorter boy fight against the urge to squirm under his gaze. “Yeah,” he said eventually, giving a small shrug. “Tomorrow.” And then he turned on his heel and disappeared.

Evan huffed out a breath, standing there staring at the space that Connor had been occupying, before finally pulling himself from the stupor and quickly gathering his things to leave before he missed the bus and had to beg Jared for a ride.


	2. I get it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But I don’t think you’re a freak, Connor. And I’m not scared of you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tuesday

Evan didn’t see Connor all morning, though he kept looking. He knew it was weird and pathetic, but that short conversation in the computer lab had somehow managed to make him a little bit hopeful that maybe  _ just maybe  _ there was someone who understood what it felt like to be alone— who could care about him.

But why would anyone ever want to be his friend, right? He wasn’t worth caring about. Especially not by Connor Murphy who—

Who was standing right in front of him.

“C-Connor! You’re here!” he exclaimed, and then mentally kicked himself for being so obviously glad to see him.  _ Not cool, Hansen. You’re pathetic. _

Connor looked surprised at the exclamation, his brow furrowing, though his lips quirked into something reflecting mild amusement. “Yeah, I’m here,” he said, not sounding nearly as enthused by that fact as Evan did.

“I— I just. I didn’t see you. Around. This morning. Not that I was looking for you because why would I do that that would be weird and kind of like a stalker and I’m not— I’m not stalking you I just—”

“Hansen,” Connor spoke over the rambling, and Evan sucked in the air he desperately needed at this point, nodding in thanks. He braced himself for Connor to tell him how weird and creepy and pathetic he was, but instead he just gave a small laugh that wasn’t nearly as cruel as the laughter Evan was used to. “I was asleep in my car,” he told him.

Evan bit his lip to keep from laughing. He’s now gone from borderline-panic to laughing in about two seconds and he was worried he might get whiplash. “I— I did not know you could do that,” he managed.

“Yeah, well,” Connor shrugged, “turns out you can get away with a lot of shit when everyone’s already written you off as a lost cause.”

Evan’s face scrunched up, almost into a pout. “You’re not a lost cause,” he said firmly, not exactly sure where it was coming from. Maybe because if someone with as much presence as Connor Murphy was a lost cause, then Evan had no hope at all.

Connor rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure, Hansen,” he said sarcastically, and Evan was about to push the point, but Connor kept talking. “It’s lunch now, yeah?”

“O-oh, uh, yeah,” Evan fiddled with the hem of his shirt, “but I don’t normally, uh, eat in the cafeteria— Just cause it’s loud? Y’know? And there’s a lot of people. And I don’t exactly have anyone I can sit with so I usually just end up standing there and—”

“Yeah, the cafeteria sucks,” Connor cut him off easily, giving Evan the chance to breathe again. “I usually eat in my car but…” he trailed off, shoulders tensing as he apparently realized he didn’t want to say out loud whatever he was about to.

“I usually eat under the tree in the courtyard,” Evan said, though he wasn’t really sure why. Maybe because Connor looked uncomfortable, and Evan thought it might make him less so if he also told him where he ate.

Connor squinted at him. “This school has a courtyard?”

Evan’s eyes lit up. Most of the students didn’t know about the courtyard, which is why it was the ideal place for him to eat, and also just to go and hide whenever it was all too much. “Yeah!” he told Connor happily. “The botany class maintains it but that’s only during seventh period and it’s open to everyone, though most students don’t know about it. There’s a big oak tree in the center and a vegetable garden and a herb garden and the whole thing is lined with flower boxes and we just planted petunias and pansies so it’s actually really beautiful right now. There’s a few benches and a picnic table but no one’s ever there which is why it’s good for um…” Evan trailed off as he circled back around to the reason he’d started rambling in the first place. He noticed that Connor hadn’t cut him off this time, and instead was just listening contentedly, a small amused smirk on his face. Evan cleared his throat, rocking back on his heels. “Uh… do you… do you maybe want to see it?”

Connor nodded at first but it turned into a shrug, like he didn’t want to seem too eager. “Yeah, sure. Lead the way, Hansen.”

So Evan did, taking Connor down the familiar route from his locker to the AP Environmental Science classroom, and then through that room’s back door which was mostly obstructed by the strategically placed displays Dr. Hayes had put out to keep students from staring out the window during lectures. Dr. Hayes wasn’t in the room when they got there— not that Evan would have minded. He was one of the few teachers who didn’t make Evan want to shrivel into a ball and disappear.

“Oh,” Connor let out once he’d followed Evan into the courtyard, though the noise sounded involuntary. He looked to Evan with wide eyes. “Damn, Hansen. Who knew the botany class was holding out?”

Evan smiled, feeling that elusive unfamiliar sensation that he’s pretty sure was pride. “W-Well, you can see why we, uh, might not want the rest of the student body finding— finding out about this place.”

Connor snorted and nodded. “How many people are in the botany class, anyway?”

Evan flushed. “Seven.”

“Damn, I should have taken botany,” Connor lamented. “Home ec has way too many freshmen.”

That surprised Evan. “You’re in home ec?”

Connor shrugged, deflecting by turning away and casually making his way to the picnic table under the tree. “It’s an easy A,” he said, which was probably true of most school’s home ec classes, but Mrs. Day actually expected her student’s dishes to be edible.

“Only if you know how to cook,” Evan argued, taking the seat next to him and pulling out his bagged lunch, which today consisted only of a slice of cheese stuck between some wonder bread.

Connor eyed the sad excuse for a sandwich. “Looks like you could probably benefit from home ec.”

Evan grimaced, poking the bread absently. “Yeah,” he agreed, deciding not to mention that he didn’t eat most nights because he didn’t know how to cook and he was too anxious to order food.

“I’ll have to show you sometime,” Connor said quickly, and Evan’s head snapped over to look up at him. Connor looked just as surprised that he said it as Evan was. “Y’know,” he mumbled awkwardly, “so you don’t starve, or whatever.”

Evan found himself weirdly moved by the idea that someone might care (even just a little) about whether or not he ate. “Thanks,” he said genuinely, and Connor shrugged. Evan decided it was probably best to change the subject before one of them lost feeling in their feet from the amount of blood rushing to their cheeks. “So, uh, what’s your other elective then?”

“Art,” Connor answered, drumming his fingers on the edge of the table. He leaned forward to run a black-painted thumb nail along the grain of the wood.

“Oh, like, drawing? Or, um, ceramics?” Evan knew the school offered like six different art classes at varying levels, but he couldn’t remember what they were.

“Studio Art,” Connor specified, sort of muttering it into the table, and Evan wondered why he seemed embarasssed by that until he realized what he meant.

“You mean like the advanced class?” Evan asked, eyes wide with wonder. Who knew Connor Murphy had so many hidden talents?

“Yeah. Why?” Connor bit out defensively, suddenly looking up so he could fix Evan with a blazing glare. “Didn’t think the school shooter could do anything but smoke weed? Cause I’m just a  _ psycho, _ right?”

“W-What?” Evan sputtered, mind reeling. “No! I didn’t— I didn’t think that  _ at all! _ ” His voice was suddenly a lot louder than it was normally capable of (which admittedly still wasn’t really all that loud), but it was important that Connor heard him. “I just didn’t know you were an artist, that’s all! I think that’s really cool!”

Connor studied him for a moment, apparently looking for the dishonesty, but eventually his shoulders unwound and he let out a breath. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“That— that’s okay,” Evan said quietly. “I get it.” Connor just raised a brow so Evan shrugged and went on. “I think those things too. That everyone hates me and thinks I’m pathetic and useless. I’m sure a lot of people do, cause, well, I am. But I’m just not brave enough to say it to their face.”

“Brave,” Connor repeated, and it wasn’t exactly a question so Evan didn’t answer it.

“But I don’t think you’re a freak, Connor. And I’m not scared of you. Which is weird. Cause I’m actually scared of most people, usually? But, um, yeah. You don’t have to be worried about that. Not that I think you are— Obviously. I mean, why would you care what I think? I just— I’m saying— I mean—”

Connor put a hand on his shoulder to cut him off this time. He waited until Evan sucked it a breath before saying, “I get it.”

And for once Evan believed that.

“And for what it’s worth I don’t think you’re pathetic or useless,” Connor added, not looking at Evan. “I mean, you planted all these flowers. That’s something.”

Evan blushed and followed Connor’s gaze around the courtyard. It really was beautiful. And Evan had helped make it. That was something. Sometimes something was all you needed. “Yeah,” he managed, “yeah, I guess so.”

There was only thirty minutes left in the period, so Connor scarfed down his much more substantial lunch and forced Evan to eat the grapes and one of the pop tarts. 

Evan learned more surprising facts about Connor Murphy: his favorite color was purple, his favorite season was fall, he played drums, and doesn’t know how to ride a bike (but he could skateboard), and he really really likes reading.

“ _ Where the Red Ferns Grow _ seriously fucked me up as a kid. I didn’t know books could be sad when I read it. And Zoe found me just sobbing and clutching the book and she forced our mom to take us to go get ice cream to make me feel better.”

Evan smiled at that. Connor didn’t seem to be nearly as aware of himself or what he was saying as he usually was— the tension that normally had his shoulders curling up near his ears was all but gone as he ran through the list of his favorite books. “That’s cute,” Evan said, not really thinking about what he was saying either. “I’ve never read it though so I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Connor’s eyes widened as he turned to him. “You have to read it.”

“What?” Evan asked incredulously. “You just said it was sad!”

“It’s still good!”

Evan shook his head, trying not to laugh. “That doesn't make any sense.”

“It’s still a good story. It’s just a sad one.” Connor shrugged. “Sometimes sad shit happens. That’s life.”

Evan nodded solemnly at that, looking down to his cast absently. Then a random thought occurred to him and he looked back up to Connor with a little mischievous smirk. “Did you read the Harry Potter books as a kid?” Evan asked, already knowing the answer even before Connor blushed.

He crossed his arms defensively. “Everyone read those books. I bet you even you did, even though apparently you haven’t read  _ most books.  _ I mean seriously, who hasn’t read  _ To Kill a Mockingbird _ ?”

Evan rolled his eyes at Connor’s obvious attempt to change the subject. He persisted, “What’s your Hogwarts house, Connor Murphy?”

Connor glared at him, but it didn’t have even half of it’s usual fire behind it. “I don’t have to answer questions from a Hufflepuff.”

Evan snorted but didn’t deny it. They were currently sitting in the garden he’d planted as he made friends with the only person lower on the social food chain than himself. Evan’s obviously a Hufflepuff. “I bet you’re a Ravenclaw.”

Genuine surprise colored Connor’s features. “What? You don’t think I’m a Slytherin?”

Evan shrugged. “I think you want people to think you’re a Slytherin. But you just went on for fifteen minutes about books and you’re in all my AP classes. You’re clearly brilliant.”

Connor squinted at him, apparently trying to decide how he felt about Evan’s assessment. Clearly, some part of his brain was informing him that Evan was making fun of him, so Evan added, “That’s really cool,” even though whenever he said the word ‘cool’ it sounded objectively awkward and gross.

Connor snorted and shook his head incredulously. “You’re a dork, Hansen.”

Evan smirked. “Says the Ravenclaw.”

Connor opened his mouth to shoot something back, but the bell rang before he could. “You’re in this class next, right?”

He nodded. Fifth period was his APES block. “You too,” he said, even though he’d technically already noted that earlier.

“C’mon then,” Connor sighed, standing up and gathering the remnants of their lunch. He started to walk to the trash can by the table before Evan stopped him.

“Oh, wait!” he said, jutting out his hand to rest against Connor’s stomach. Connor’s brow pulled together and Evan quickly pulled his hand back, yanking at his shirt hem instead. “I mean, um, there’s— there’s a compost bin.” He motioned over his shoulder with his thumb quickly before going back to his shirt.

Connor let out a little breath that might have been a laugh as he looked over Evan and saw the green composter next to the vegetable patch. “Right,” he said, “of course.” He disposed of their food waste while Evan collected the recycling.

He picked up Connor’s empty plastic water bottle and wrinkled his nose as he tossed it in the correct bin. “Y’know, plastic bottles are really wasteful,” he said. “70% of them end up in landfills and oceans even after they get recycled.”

Connor stared at him in mild amusement. “I’ll buy a reusable water bottle, Hansen.”

Evan flushed. “You— you don’t have to—”

“Just say thank you.”

His face turned impossibly redder, but he smiled. “Thank you.” He picked up his own stainless steel bottle and shoved it in his bag. He walked past Connor and back into the classroom that was still blissfully empty.

Connor followed him in and, after a moment’s pause, took the seat beside Evan, technically making them lab partners for the day. “I’m not gonna piss off whoever sat here yesterday, am I?”

Evan shook his head quickly. “No-nobody sat there yesterday,” he admitted. Evan had taken the table near the front because he’d had Dr. Hayes for the last three years in botany and he’d actually been looking forward to APES and he didn’t want to hide in the back during his favorite subject from his favorite teacher. He actually trusted Dr. Hayes not to try and embarrass him, and he trusted himself to know the answers most of the time anyway. And he wanted to get the best view of all the plant specimens he knew Dr. Hayes would be bringing in throughout the year. He kind of figured at least Alana Beck would sit with him if he was in the front, but she’d taken the other front table next to Matt Holtzer. Probably because she thought Evan wouldn’t be any use as a lab partner. And he’d had to watch in silent dismay as the rest of the class filed in and avoided the seat next to him.

“I skipped this class yesterday,” Connor said, pulling Evan from his morose thoughts. Evan hadn’t noticed. He’d actually just assumed Connor had been in the back somewhere, since he was used to seeing Connor in the back of his AP classes. “I fell asleep during lunch.”

Evan absently recalled the class rankings and remembered seeing Connor near the top. “How are your grades so high when you’re never here?” he asked, probably a bit enviously. Evan felt like he was constantly studying to maintain his 4.0 that he needed in order to have a chance at affording college.

Connor shrugged. “I dunno. Shit just makes sense to me, I guess. And at least grades are one less thing my parents can get pissed at me for.”

Evan filed that away for later as the rest of their class started to come in and he watched Connor start to tense back up. There were definitely looks being thrown their way. Evan knew he imagined people were staring at him most of the time, but he also knew he usually just faded into the background (his brain was a paradox). But he definitely wasn’t imagining these stares. His brow furrowed as he caught Alana Beck studying them. He glanced down to see Connor’s hands clenching into fists.

“Hey,” he said softly, getting Connor to look at him. He looked terrified. Like an injured dog ready to attack anyone who got too close. Evan tried to be as reassuring as possible. “It’s okay. I get it.”

Connor let out the breath he’d been holding and it sounded painful. He pressed his lips together and nodded.

“We can sit in the back, if you want?” Evan offered.

He shook his head and managed a small smile that almost reached his eyes. “But then how will you see the plants?” he asked teasingly even though he still looked uncomfortable—viscerally aware of the eyes on his back.

Evan gave a small surprised laugh. Of course Connor realized why this was the one class he was in the front of. “Mental health is more important than plants,” he whispered.

“I’m fine,” Connor insisted, and he was starting to look like maybe he could believe that.

“Okay,” Evan said, knowing how awful it felt when someone tried to tell you you couldn’t do it even though you were trying your best. “Let me know if that changes.”

Connor nodded. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

They got through class just fine and Evan was secretly relieved that Connor hadn’t wanted to move to the back because Dr. Hayes had brought petrified wood samples and set them down on their table when he moved on and because of that Evan was the only one in the class that got to handle them and see them up close. Well, him and Connor, as Evan passed it over to him, pointing to the discoloration that Dr. Hayes had mentioned and whispering some more information about it. Connor had nodded along and smiled even though Evan was sure he didn’t actually care about petrified wood.

“Those were so cool,” Evan enthused after the bell rang and they were making their way down the hall. He had a spring in his step and he didn’t even care that much that ‘cool’ still sounded weird in his voice. “I have some really small ones at home but those were full cross sections—like you could actually tell it used to be a tree! I looked up the price for those one time and it was like three hundred dollars minimum!”

Connor was smiling down at him, apparently content to just listen to Evan ramble on about petrified wood. “I’ll buy you a tree fossil for your birthday, Hansen.”

Evan turned bright red and stuttered through something incoherent, but Connor just put a hand on his shoulder and reminded him to breathe, shaking his head in mild amusement.

They had AP Lit next, and this time they dutifully shoved themselves into the back row where people apparently thought they belonged. Evan looked over a few times to see Connor actually listening (like nodding along and reacting to) what their teacher was saying about the characters in  _ As I Lay Dying _ .

“Faulkner was batshit,” Connor said as soon as they left. “And his books aren’t even that great. But you can tell he was flat fucking crazy and it’s wild that this fucking psychopath is considered to be a classic novelist. Y’know he wrote plot outlines on his walls?”

“Wow,” Evan let out. “You’re right. That’s…” Evan didn't actually want to say any of the words Connor just used. “I think most artists that are considered classics had some kind of mental illness,” he said instead. “Faulkner, Van Gough, Mozart—”

“Mozart?”

“Yeah, he was bipolar. You can’t tell that from his music though. I think that’s why I like it. It’s like proof that mental illness doesn’t have to define you, y’know?”

Connor seemed to consider this for a moment, but he decided not to comment on it. “You like Mozart?” he asked instead.

Evan flushed. “Y-yeah,” he admitted. “My piano teacher introduced it to me when I was little. I guess it’s just kind of… stuck.”

“You play piano?”

“Um, yeah!” Evan coughed when he realized he sort of shouted that. “Uh, since I was little. Piano is actually my other elective, y’know, besides botany.”

“That’s cool,” Connor said, and the word sounded much more natural coming from him. Evan might have almost believed it was true. “Are you in band?”

Evan’s eyes widened. “O-oh, no. No. No, the only— the only band that has a piano is jazz band and I could never— I mean, I like jazz, I mean, not like all jazz but just like jazz band jazz— Oh, god that’s so weird. I just mean—”

“Hey,” Connor cut him off, and Evan realized they had stopped moving and were standing off to the side of the flow of traffic now. “Chill.”

Evan nodded and took a few deep breaths before trying to speak again. Connor just watched him, surprisingly patient. “I would be too afraid to audition,” he finally admitted, “much less perform.”

“That’s fair,” Connor said, like it was no big deal, and Evan let out a little relieved breath that he didn’t tell him that was stupid or start trying to convince him to overcome 17 years of anxiety just to end up bombing a jazz band audition.

“You said you have botany next?” Connor asked, and Evan looked up to the hall clock to see that he now only had a minute to get all the way back to the APES classroom.

“Yep, yes, I have to go. I’ll— I’ll see you, uh, later.” He started backing up, needing to go now if he was going to make it before the tardy bell.

Connor shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, see you. Have fun with your plants, Hansen.”

Evan smiled brightly at the reminder and spun on his heel, sprinting to class even though he knew Dr. Hayes wouldn’t care if he was late.

He stayed in the courtyard even after the bell rang and the six other students had left in a hurry to get home. He wanted to finish getting all the weeds out from around the rose bushes before he left, and Dr. Hayes didn’t mind, simply going about his business inside while Evan worked.

It didn’t take too long, but he was surprised to see someone else still in the hallway when he finally got to his locker, and he was even more surprised to find that someone was Connor Murphy. “C-Connor!” he let out. “Y-you’re here.”

Connor tensed. “Would you rather I wasn’t?”

“N-no!” Evan assured him quickly. “No, I was just surprised, is all. Didn’t the final bell ring like twenty minutes ago? I wouldn’t have stayed in the garden so long if I knew you were waiting. Not that I think you’re waiting for me! I mean, I don’t know, maybe you’re waiting for your sister, I—”

“I was waiting for you,” Connor interrupted calmly, allowing Evan to suck in some air. “But I haven’t been here for twenty minutes. I stayed in my last class a bit longer too.”

Evan nodded, and finally brought his eyes up enough to realize Connor had a streak of bright blue paint across his left cheekbone. It was in stark contrast to his black clothes and dark hair, but went almost perfectly with the blue of his eyes. “Oh,” Evan let out for more reasons than one. He giggled and motioned to his own cheek in indication. “You’ve got a little…”

Connor’s hand shot up to feel the paint half dried onto his skin. “Shit,” he mumbled, looking at the blue now also on his fingertips.

“I take it you were in art class?” Evan asked, teasing.

Connor blushed though Evan couldn’t fathom why he would be embarrassed. “Yeah,” he mumbled. He dug through his bag until he found a pack of wet-ones and then wiped the paint off his cheek. Evan was almost sad to see it go. It seemed like a more solid representation of Connor’s actual personality than the dark jacket and combat boots portrayed. 

“Anyway,” Evan said, rocking back on his heels and jamming a thumb over his shoulder, “I missed the bus so I should get walking.”

“You don’t drive?”

“Oh, uh, n-no, no, I can’t—”

Connor preemptively predicted the rambling this time. “You want a ride?” he asked instead of why Evan didn’t drive despite being a senior in high school. Which Evan appreciated.

“O-oh, you don’t have to—”

“Is that a yes?” Connor raised a brow.

Evan nodded erratically. “Please.”

“Cool.” Connor pushed himself off of the lockers. “Let’s go.”

He followed him to the senior parking lot, and when Connor clicked the unlock button on his key fob, Evan realized why he had offered to buy him a 300 dollar tree fossil earlier that afternoon. Connor Murphy drove the sort of luxury vehicle that only the kids of insanely rich parents had.

He got into the passenger side of the black Audi S7 and practically sunk into the leather interior. “No wonder you fell asleep in here,” he mumbled, not actually meaning to say that out loud.

Connor snorted. “Yeah, well, I guess my parents figured having a nice car gives me incentive not to drive it off a bridge.”

Evan filed that away for later along with the pissed off parents thing from earlier. There was obviously a whole other side to Connor Murphy’s life that Evan was only just beginning to get a glimpse into. Speaking of… “Don’t you drive your sister too?”

“Not today,” he answered, throwing the car into gear and putting his hand on the back of Evan’s seat to look behind him as he backed out of the parking space (despite the fact that he had a rearview camera, maybe it was force of habit). “Zoe has band practice so she’s getting a ride home.”

Evan nodded, not really sure what the appropriate outward response to that was. He really wasn’t all that worried about how Zoe Murphy was getting home; he just wanted to make sure Connor wasn’t forgetting her or anything. He would have felt really bad if Connor had taken him home and abandoned his sister at school or something. Not that he thought that would happen, but like, it wasn’t a  _ completely _ impossible occurrence, therefore his brain was convinced it was happening until Connor assured him that it wasn’t.

Connor turned out of the parking lot and onto the road. “Where do you live, Hansen?”

“O-oh, not far, just a few miles. I really could have walked. It’s just up here, uh, turn right at the next stop sign.” Connor did and Evan pointed to the house at the end of the cul de sac as they approached it. “The, um, the one with the window boxes.” He had planted lobelia and creeping jenny early in the summer to replace the spring tulips, and they were still thriving now in late August.

“Did you plant those?” Connor asked, gesturing both to the window boxes and the garden underneath them.

Evan nodded. “There’s more in the back.”

“Of course there is.”

“Do you wanna see?” Evan asked hopefully. He was proud of his vegetable garden, and he might also want to keep hanging out with Connor. It was nice, feeling like there was someone who actually wanted to be around him and wasn’t just there out of obligation… or for car insurance.

“Sure,” Connor shrugged, taking the key out of the ignition and unlocking the doors. He followed Evan up to the house and didn’t say anything when Evan’s hands shook when he unlocked the door.

Evan dropped his bag next to the couch and tried to pretend he didn’t notice Connor looking around his living room. It was a small house—the upstairs consisted only of his bedroom and bathroom, and the dining room was part of the kitchen. Connor probably lived in a mansion if his car was anything to go by.

“Your parents aren’t here?” he asked.

Evan shook his head. “My mom’s a CNA at Highland and she takes night classes at Monroe, so she’s never home.”

If Connor thought it was weird that Evan didn’t say anything about his dad, he didn’t mention it. “My mom doesn’t work so she’s always buzzing around. It’s really annoying.”

“Y-yeah whenever my mom is around she somehow still manages to get on my nerves.”

“My dad’s like that. He’s always working but he still finds time to yell at me.”

“Dads suck,” Evan said.

“Dads suck,” Connor repeated with a nod and then laughed. “Wow, we’re really bonding today, Hansen.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “C’mon, come look at my eggplant.” He started walking towards the sliding glass door.

“I don’t think we’re quite there yet,” Connor quipped. Or at least, it sounded like a quip. It had the cadence of a quip. He was laughing as they went out into the backyard.

Evan didn’t get it. “What?” he asked, tilting his head.

Connor shook his head, still laughing at his own joke, and now also apparently at the fact that Evan didn’t get it. “Nevermind.”

“But I want to know!”

“Nu-uh, I’m not corrupting you. You’re too pure.”

Evan pouted and crossed his arm. “I am not.”

Connor snorted and patted him on the head. “You’re like a little puppy.”

Evan wrinkled his nose and batted Connor’s hand away, earning another laugh from the taller teen. “I resent that,” he grumbled.

“Sucks, cos it’s true.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around the little backyard. Flower beds lined the side of the house and the fence, leading to a large tree that partially shaded the vegetable and herb garden at the far end of the yard. “Now show me your eggplant, Hansen.” He laughed again and Evan pursed his lips in annoyance.

But he led Connor over to the plants anyway, pointing out all the different things he was growing: eggplant, cabbage, pole beans, chili peppers, carrots, onions, and tomatoes.

“No fruits?” Connor asked.

“Well, technically, eggplants, chillies, and tomatoes are fruits. Because they have seeds.”

Connor rolled his eyes dramatically. “Well,  _ culinarily _ , they’re vegetables. Because they fucking  _ taste _ like vegetables.”

Evan squinted at him. “Is ‘culinarily’ a word?”

“Yes.”

“Hm.”

Connor sighed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. “What do you do with all these  _ vegetables  _ if you don’t know how to cook?” 

“O-oh, I take them to the food bank. Mostly. Our neighbor, she’s the one who taught me piano, I’ll bring her stuff too, sometimes. Or she’ll call and ask for it and I’ll bring it over if— if I have it. Sometimes she’ll even give me some of whatever she’s making so that’s— nice. Because I don’t normally eat, actually. Since my mom isn’t ever home. She leaves me money for pizza but I hate ordering because you have to call and explain what you want and then answer the door and hand over money and stand their silently while they’re counting out change. Which is why— uh, probably, I started growing vegetables. I thought maybe my mom would cook something. But she uh, didn’t. Hence the, um, food bank. And Ms. Gatanakis. My neighbor, that is. You might remember her? She was our second grade teacher. Or, I mean, I think we were in the same class? She does cook. A lot. She’s Greek. Which is, um, yeah— nice.”

Connor had apparently decided to wait for him to finish rambling this time. Evan wanted to know what criteria decided what did and did not constitute a ramble worth interrupting in Connor’s mind. It made sense that Connor had let him ramble about petrified wood, because that hadn’t been nervous rambling. But this had definitely been nervous rambling. Because he recognized before answering that the answer was kind of weird. Maybe Connor was just genuinely interested in the answer, and that meant having to let Evan ramble through it.

Evan sucked in a breath.

“You okay?” Connor asked.

Evan nodded.

“Cool.” He shoved his hands deeper in his pockets. “If you want I could, uh, cook?”

“O-oh,” Evan let out. “Y-you don’t have to—”

Connor spoke over him. “So, correct me if I’m wrong, but you saying ‘you don’t have to’ actually means you want me to but you’re too nervous to say so, right? It’s not like, you’re trying to gently tell me to fuck off or whatever?”

Evan shook his head quickly, and then it turned into a nod, and then back into a shake, which ended up just looking like he was having a stroke. He forced his head to stop moving and his mouth to form sentences. “You’re not wrong,” he said. “I’m bad at— words. Obviously. And— and I don’t want you to, um, leave.”

Connor studied him. “And you’re not just saying that?”

“I’m not just saying that,” Evan confirmed. “I don’t like… uh, asking for things? Or saying what I want. Because then I feel like a burden. And that they’re only doing it because they feel like they have to. Um. Yeah…”

Connor nodded slowly, processing this. “Okay,” he agreed eventually. “But you have to tell me if you want me to fuck off.”

“I don’t—”

“Hansen.”

Evan ground his teeth together. “I will politely ask you to leave if that is something that I desire,” he finally relented, but only just barely.

Connor smirked. “Nah, you gotta say ‘fuck off.’ You gotta use those exact words.”

“Connor, I’m not gonna—”

“C’mon, just say it.”

Evan huffed. “What happened to not wanting to corrupt me?”

Connor laughed. “Oh, shit, you’re right! You’re too pure to say fuck! I take it back! Don’t ever say a bad word, Evan Hansen. You’re the last remaining bit of true good left on this earth. Don’t let me break you.”

Evan rolled his eyes and turned on his heel to head back into the house.

Connor chased him inside. “I can practically hear your thoughts,” he laughed. “You’re thinking ‘fuck off, Murphy’ but you’re too wonderful to say it.”

Evan sighed and handed over the wooden crate of produce he’d harvested yesterday. “No, I’m thinking ‘this boy better be as good a cook as he seems to think he is.’”

Connor snorted as he took the crate. “Ooo, who knew Evan Hansen could be sassy?”

Evan knew he was sassy. On the inside. He was just normally too afraid to say anything out loud. Apparently that didn’t apply around Connor. Connor might actually be the first person to know that Evan was sassy. “Don’t tell anyone,” he said, watching Connor procure an eggplant, some tomatoes, and a number of herbs. 

“Honestly, who would I tell?” Connor shot back, opening the fridge and digging through the drawers. “Tell me you have parmesan, Hansen.”

“Uh, probably not?”

Connor shut the fridge door so that he could stare at Evan incredulously. “Who doesn’t have parmesan?”

“What are you, Italian?”

“Irish, actually. But more importantly I’m human. And humans keep parmesan in their fridge.”

Evan honestly didn’t know much about what humans did. That was like, his whole thing. “What, everyone? All the time?”

“Yes.”

“That doesn’t seem real.”

“I’ll prove it. Do you have Ms. G’s number?”

Evan pointed to the fridge. There was a sticky note on it which Heidi had scribbled: ‘Mom’ and ‘Ms. G’ followed by both of their numbers. As if Evan didn’t have them in his phone. But the sticky note had been there since long before Evan had gotten a phone. It was a very old sticky note.

Still, it was useful now as Connor pulled out his iPhone and dialed their old second grade teacher. “Hi, Ms. G? … This is Connor Murphy, you probably don’t remember me— …” Evan watched Connor flush. “Yeah, yeah I remember that… I still have it, yeah… Oh, that’s nice… Yeah, actually, the reason I called: I’m at Evan Hansen’s house right now— … Yeah, yeah it is…” Connor laughed and Evan furrowed his brow. “That’s good. Uh-huh…Yep… Anyway, Ms. G, Evan does not have parmesan cheese anywhere in his house— … I know! … That’s exactly what I said, Ms. G!” He gave Evan a pointed look which he stuck his tongue out at. “You do have some? Yeah, actually, that’d be great… Cool, I’ll be over in a sec. Thank you, Ms. G… Yep, see you.” He hung up and shoved the phone back in his pocket, already heading towards the door.

Evan was in awe. Connor Murphy had just called up his old second grade teacher whom he presumably hadn’t spoken to in nearly a decade and just… had a casual conversation. He just  _ asked for what he wanted. _ And now— and now he was just marching right out the door and knocking on hers like it was nothing!

Connor Murphy was the bravest and coolest person Evan had ever met.

He stood awkwardly behind him, pulling at his shirt hem as Ms. G flung opened the door and proceeded to gush over them.

“Connor Murphy as I live and breathe!” she exclaimed, immediately pulling the black-clad and taller-than-her teenager into a hug, as if he was still the sticky seven year old that she’d known. “It’s so nice to see you, sweetie! I can’t believe Evan never told me you two were friends!”

“Oh, well, he doesn’t say much,” Connor played it off easily, patting Evan on the shoulder and earning a laugh from Ms. G. 

“Well here’s the cheese,” she said, handing over the block, “and feel free to keep that.”

“Oh, no—” Evan immediately protested.

“It’s the least I can do to make up for all the food you bring me, Evan,” she said, giving him the same look that she had been since he was four years old that meant he wasn’t allowed to argue with her. “And I just made these cookies this morning,” she said, disappearing for a second and returning with a plate piled high with cookies and wrapped in cellophane. “I was going to bring them over later anyway, so you boys can save me the trip.”

“Oh, wow, thank you,” Evan managed, taking the plate from her. It was hardly the first time she’d given him more sugar than he should ever eat on his own. At least this time he had someone to help him.

“Not a problem, sweetie!” She smiled brightly and hugged them both again. “Now you boys go have fun! Let me know if you need anything at all, okay?”

“Okay, Ms. G,” Connor agreed. “Thank you again.”

She waved them off and they retreated back to Evan’s house. 

“Cheese and cookies!” Connor said as they put the items on the kitchen counter. “Man, if I were you I’d be at her house every single day. She’s  _ still _ one of my favorite teachers.”

“Really?” Evan asked. He knew most people loved Ms. G, but most people had moved on since second grade.

Connor tensed up suddenly and Evan frowned as his mind instantly started trying to figure out what he’d said wrong. “Yeah. Why?” Connor asked tersely, like he was prepared to start yelling if Evan answered wrong.

_ Shit shit shit shit shit.  _ If only Connor could hear his thoughts now.  _ Oh right fuck that stupid rumor about the stupid fucking printer. Evan, you fucking dumbass. _ Evan took a deep breath. “Connor,” he said seriously, “I was there. I know you didn’t throw the printer.”

Connor visibly relaxed. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself and Evan tried to wait patiently, but he couldn’t help but shift his weight anxiously from one foot to the other. “Right,” Connor eventually managed to get out. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I get it.” Evan bit the inside of his cheek. “Thanks for not immediately yelling at me.”

“I’m trying.”

“I know. I can see that. You did really well.”

“I pushed you yesterday.”

“Everybody fucks up sometimes.”

Connor’s mouth fell open and Evan smirked triumphantly. He really did not like to swear, but it had the desired effect this time, and that was worth it.

“Evan Hansen!” Connor exclaimed, sounding like a scandalized housewife from a 1950’s sitcom. The remaining tension slipped away as he teased him. “Wash your mouth out!”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Weren’t you supposed to be making dinner?”

“Damn, sexist.”

“You’re a guy.”

“Touché.” Connor laughed as he went over to the sink to wash his hands. 

Then Evan watched in wide-eyed wonder as Connor pulled things from the cabinets that Evan didn’t even know they had. Eventually he had to turn on music, because he wasn’t capable of holding a conversation while Connor Murphy was practically performing art in his kitchen. He heard Connor comment on his Spotify playlist, but he barely heard it over the voice in his head muttering  _ what the fuck _ over and over again.

Connor Murphy made eggplant parmesan with made-from-scratch marinara sauce. He had Evan taste it before putting it on the eggplant and Evan didn’t know sauce could taste that good. He’d only ever had Ragu.

Connor made a sort of horrified noise when Evan told him this. “Hansen, that’s the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

“What happened to me falling from a tree?”

“This beats that.”

“Wow.”

“I’m not kidding.”

“No, I can tell.”

Connor was clearly very serious about cooking. He plated their meals like he thought he was gonna get a grade on them. Which, probably was from force of habit if he was in his third year of home ec.

“Do you cook at home?” Evan asked as they pushed the mail and random papers out of the way so that they could sit at the little round dining table to eat.

Connor shrugged. “Sometimes.” He stabbed at his spaghetti a bit absently. “My mom gets on these weird diet fads or whatever?  _ Omnivore’s Dilemma _ , or whatever. Like, last year we were following kashrut even though we’re catholic? And now she’s all vegan. Which sucks. Well, it would suck less if she actually knew how to cook vegan. But she’ll try to use like, weird meat and cheese substitutes instead of just… eating vegetables.”

“Oh, wow,” Evan said. He was listening, but he was at least partially distracted by how good the food in his mouth was right now. “Connor, this is really good. I’ve never eaten anything that tastes this good in my entire life. Can you please come over and cook for me everyday?”

He laughed and blushed furiously under the praise, pushing his head forward so that he could hide his face in his hair. “Thanks,” he muttered. “So, yeah, anyway. I used to cook at home a lot more than I do now. Zoe and I used to make pancakes every weekend but…” He tensed up again and Evan’s brow furrowed. “That was a long time ago,” he finished lamely.

Evan decided not to push it— not before Connor had eaten the fruits  _ (haha) _ of his labor anyway. He filed it away for later along with the other stuff. “Well you’re welcome to make me pancakes,” he said teasingly. “And I am jewish, by the way, but we don’t follow kashrut.”

“So you eat pork?” Connor asked curiously, finally starting to cut into his food.

Evan wrinkled his nose. “No, okay. I don’t follow kashrut but that is the one thing I won’t do. It just feels like… going too far? Like cooking meat with butter is fine and we only have one oven. But I don’t know. Something about pork and shellfish.”

“Bacon is really good though, dude.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “So I’ve heard,” he replied dryly.

“You’re right though. I don’t know if it’s  _ eternal damnation _ good. I mean, imagine standing next to Hitler in hell and the only reason you’re there is because you ate some bacon.”

Evan squinted at him. “Think about that for a second longer.”

Connor looked up as he processed what he said. And then his eyes widened in horror. “Oh, shit. Fuck, I take that back. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

Evan laughed at Connor’s distress. “It’s okay. You’re good. I promise.”

“I should really think about what I say before I say it.”

“Just don’t do it too much. Then you’ll be like me.” Evan took another bite of eggplant and pasta pointedly. “Starving because I’m too afraid of talking to the pizza guy.”

“Nah, that’s totally valid,” Connor waved him off. “Y’know Matt Holtzer works for Pizza Hut? What if he showed up at your door?”

It was Evan’s turn to be horrified. He turned pale.

“Oh shit, now you’re definitely never gonna order pizza are you?” Connor winced.

Evan shook his head.

“Guess I’ll just have to keep making you dinner then.” Connor shrugged. “At least this means I won’t have to eat my mom’s vegan lasagna ever again.”

Evan snapped out of the horrifying image of answering the door to find Matt Holtzer holding his pizza. He wrinkled his nose at the new horrifying image of whatever the hell vegan lasagna was. “Ew,” he said simply.

Connor nodded solemnly. “My thoughts exactly.”

They focused more on finishing their dinner than holding a conversation after that, and because they were two teenage boys, they finished in what had to be record time.

“Is there more?” Evan asked, looking into the kitchen.

“You’re still hungry?” Connor asked.

“No, but I can make a plate for my mom… for whenever she gets home.” Evan twisted his shirt.

“Oh, yeah, that’s cool. There’s enough for at least two more plates.”

There actually turned out to be enough left for three more plates, and Evan tried to insist Connor take some, but Connor had whole heartedly refused, pointing out that he could make it again if he wanted, but Evan couldn’t. So instead they packed up all the leftovers into individual boxes and put them in Evan’s (mostly empty) fridge. Then they cleaned up the rest of the mess that Connor hadn’t done as he worked, ending with them collapsing into a heap on the living room sofa, both a little damp from washing dishes. They munched absently on Ms. G’s cookies.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Evan asked.

Connor was staring up at the ceiling. “Sure,” he said. “What do you have?”

“Netflix,” Evan answered blandly, earning a surprised laugh and a light kick to his shin from Connor.

“Alright, sassy.” He rolled his eyes and stood up, quickly figuring out Evan’s television and bringing up the Netflix menu. “What do you wanna watch?”

“I don’t care.”

Connor looked back at him, raising a single brow. “Do you actually not care or are there just too many options?”

Evan flushed. “Both?”

“If I give you like five options can you choose one?”

Evan instantly hated that idea. “Probably not,” he answered honestly.

Instead of getting annoyed or angry like most people did, Connor just nodded and turned back to the TV. He chose something at random from the ‘popular’ tab and fell back into the sofa.

“If this sucks it’s not my fault.”

Evan nodded silently and Connor rolled his eyes.

“I’m not saying it’s your fault either, Hansen.”

This boy’s uncanny ability to read Evan’s mind was really starting to make Evan worry that Connor was  _ actually _ psychic. “O-oh, okay, good. Who— Whose fault is it then?”

Connor shrugged. “Whoever made the movie. And all the idiots who watched it and put it in the popular tab. And Netflix for having a shitty algorithm.”

“We don’t even know if it’s bad yet.”

“I’m preparing myself for inevitable disappointment.”

“Is that healthy?”

“I’m not.”

Evan let out a little involuntary snort. “Same,” he managed to get out, though it sounded more like a cough than anything else. 

Connor just raised his brows a bit and fought back an amused smile before turning his attention to the movie.

They were about thirty minutes in when Connor’s phone rang. He pulled it out and rolled his eyes at whoever was calling him before answering. “Yeah? … No… I just said no…. I’m not! … I’m at a friend’s house… Wow, fuck you… Evan Hansen… Yes, that— … Fuck you, no I’m not! He’s right— … We’re watching a fucking movie, Zoe. I’m not— … Jesus fucking Christ—” Connor pulled the phone away from his ear and Evan could hear Zoe yelling on the other end of the line. Connor hit the speaker button and it became clearer.

_ “Just admit that you’re out getting high, Connor. There’s no point fucking lying to me. You could have at least named one of the other stoners. Evan Hansen is way too—“ _

Connor interrupted before Evan could find out what he was too much of. He didn’t know if it was better or worse not knowing. “You’re on speaker and he can hear everything you’re saying so tread carefully.”

_ “Oh, fuck you, Connor. There’s no way you’re with Evan fucking Hansen.” _

Connor gave Evan a pointed look and he swallowed down his nerves. “H-hi, Zoe,” he managed.

There was a few seconds of silence.  _ “What did you do to him?” _ she demanded of Connor.

Connor rolled his eyes so hard it’s a wonder they didn’t roll out of his head. “Jesus Christ, Zoe, can you chill for like a minute? I’m actually not fucking doing anything wrong and unless you want that to change can you please just fuck off?”

If Evan was interpreting Zoe’s next silence correctly, she was just as surprised at Connor’s use of ‘please’ as he was. It still came out harsh and angry, but it was there, and that was something.

_ “Fine,”  _ she said.  _ “I’ll tell mom and dad you’re not dead or in jail.” _

“For once I actually want you to tell them what I’m doing.”

_ “They won’t believe me.”  _ Zoe sounded a little apologetic.

“Yeah,” Connor sighed. “Are you done yelling at me now?”

_ “Yeah.” _ She still didn’t say sorry, which annoyed Evan.  _ “Bye.” _

Connor didn’t bother saying bye before hanging up. “Sorry,” he said to Evan. “I promise I won’t ever make you talk on the phone ever again. I know you said you hated that.”

Evan was surprised by a lot of that. The apology for one, but less so than the promise. Most people didn’t care about what made Evan uncomfortable. “N-no,” Evan shook his head. “That was, uh, a justified reason to make me talk on the phone.”

Connor raised a brow. “But ‘not starving’ isn’t a good reason?”

“No, not at all.” Evan laughed at himself and Connor joined in a bit too. “Um… no offense, but your sister sounds kind of…”

“Like a bitch?”

Evan’s eyes widened. “N-no! I was  _ not _ thinking that!” he denied immediately. And it was true. He was actually thinking ‘abusive’ but he didn’t want to say that either.

Connor chuckled. “No, of course not. You’re too nice. But it’s true. She’s a massive fucking bitch.”

“You don’t seem upset about that.” Evan was aware that he sounded like his therapist, but Connor didn’t seem to notice.

He shrugged. “She has every right to be. I’m a bitch to her too.”

“Oh.” Evan tried to comprehend that but it wasn’t really working. He didn’t understand siblings.

“You don’t have a sister, do you?” Connor asked.

Evan shook his head. “Only child. Well, technically I have two half-brothers, but I’ve never actually, um, met them. They live in Colorado with— with my dad, and uh, step mom. He left when I was seven, so. I haven’t seen him since. He calls sometimes? But I don’t usually answer. Sometimes he’ll email me but it’s really annoying because it’s like, why does he send me pictures of his perfect little family? Why would I want to see that? It feels like he’s bragging or just hoping I show the pictures to my mom or something but I would never do that because it’s bad enough that I have to see them—”

“Why do you open the emails at all?” Connor asked, and Evan took the opportunity to try and breathe properly again. Connor waited until he was able to speak.

“Uh, that— that’s a good question.” Evan shook his head and sighed. “I don’t know? Is it really sad if I say hope?”

“Really fucking sad,” Connor agreed, but in a way that made Evan feel like he could laugh. “Damn, Hansen, you keep telling me all this sad shit. First the tree, then the tomato sauce, now this?”

Evan laughed. “I guess my life is just really sad.” It was supposed to be a joke, but the rhythm was off.

“Nah,” Connor said, looking around. “You grew some bomb-ass eggplant and made the only pretty thing at our high school. That’s not sad.”

It took Evan a second to realize Connor meant the courtyard. Which was weird. “Jared said gardening is lame.” He always made fun of the courtyard and Evan’s window boxes.

Connor wrinkled his nose. “Fuck Jared Kleinman. That guy’s an asshole.”

Evan nodded erratically because even though he would never say ‘Jared is an asshole’ he was really glad that someone else was finally saying it. His mom acted like Jared was some kind of angel. Probably because he was the only person who would bother to talk to Evan. “He kind of sucks,” he agreed.

“Most people do.”

“Yeah.”

Connor turned back to the TV and furrowed his brow at what was happening on screen. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?” he asked.

Evan hadn’t even been able to keep up with the plot before Zoe’s call had interrupted. It was hopeless now. He couldn’t even name the characters. “Not at all.”

“Fuck it.” Connor turned off the TV. “Didn’t you say you had tree fossils around here somewhere?”

Evan’s eyes immediately lit up. “Y-yeah! D’you wanna see them?”

“Sure,” Connor agreed, and Evan shot up from the couch, excitedly leading Connor up the stairs to his room.

Evan’s room was triangular more than square in shape, as the ceiling slanted with the roof. There was one circular window that looked over the backyard, partially obstructed from a tree that grew over the side of the house, and he also had a skylight which was actually really annoying because it meant he could never block out the sun— but that also meant the plants he had in his room got enough sun, so it was sort of a lose/win situation. 

His desk was lined with all kinds of plant fossils, not just petrified wood (though those were the ones he liked the most). There were cacti and succulents hanging from planters in one corner of the room, and he had a bonsai tree on one of the nightstands next to his full bed, which was just a mattress and box spring lying directly on the floor because at one point he was afraid someone would break into the house and hide under his bed before murdering him, so he got rid of the bed frame without telling his mother why.

There was also a patterned rug on the floor which didn’t really do much against the cold hardwood floors in the old house, but it was more than nothing. And he had a few old posters that embarrassed him now as Connor looked at them.

“Is it bad if I say this is exactly what I expected?” Connor asked mildly, wandering over to inspect Evan’s bookshelves (which was mostly just comic books).

It wasn’t bad at all. Most people would be surprised by Evan’s room. Most people expected him to be devoid of personality. Most people thought he was nothing but an empty shell for anxiety to feed off of. Evan was glad Connor wasn’t most people.

“It’s cool that you have your own bathroom,” Connor said, nodding to the half-opened door, where black and white tile was visible. “I used to have to share with Zoe until I was like fourteen and moved rooms. It pissed my parents off because I guess the housewives handbook says the guest bedroom should have it’s own bathroom, but we never have guests anyway, and it’s one less argument Zoe and I have to have everyday. Though she’s still pissed that she didn’t think to move first.”

“Oh yeah,” Evan rubbed at the back of his neck. “I think this is technically supposed to be the master bedroom? But my mom doesn’t like stairs? So, yeah. It’s still small though. It’s a small house.”

“Big houses are overrated,” Connor said, in the tone of someone who had lived in a big house their entire life and hated every minute of it.

Evan shrugged and nodded. “Even this house seems too big sometimes. I’m the only one here usually.”

Connor hummed and moved over to Evan’s desk. “So tell me about your plant-rocks, dork.”

And so Evan did. Connor sat back on his bed and listened attentively while Evan went through every single fossil in his collection, giving a little mini lecture for each one. This eventually turned into talking about all the plants in his room, and admitting that the cacti had names, and then just… easy conversation. 

Evan hadn’t known that conversation could be easy, but with Connor it was for some reason. He knew when to interrupt Evan’s rambling versus when he should just let Evan get it all out. And he never got annoyed about the stuttering (though there was less and less of it as time passed, precisely for that reason). And even though there were still times when Evan would say something stupid and Connor would tense up because he was taking it the wrong way, Evan was getting better and correcting himself and reassuring Connor, and Connor was getting better at not immediately assuming Evan was making fun of him—probably because he realized Evan wasn’t actually capable of that. Though it was obvious they both still had parts of their brains telling them that this couldn’t be real, and maybe parts of them would always be waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Before they knew it the sun had disappeared and they were talking only in the glow of Evan’s fairy lights and the lamp in the corner of the room. Connor glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand and saw it was already nine o’clock.

“I should go,” he said reluctantly. “My curfew is ten and if I miss it again they’ll take my car. Whether or not I’m high.”

“O-oh, okay,” Evan said, trying not to sound disappointed. Which was ridiculous. It was getting late anyway and it’s not like he wouldn’t see Connor tomorrow. Probably. Maybe. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked hopefully as Connor stood up.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, Hansen, see you tomorrow.”

“A-and you’ll actually go to morning classes?” Evan added, partly because he did actually want Connor to go to class, but mostly because he didn’t feel like going through the same thing he did today looking around for him all morning.

Connor rolled his eyes and gave a big sigh. “Yeah, I guess I’ll go to class,” he said, and Evan laughed at the dramatics. “Careful, Hansen, or you might be a good influence on me.”

“Oh well we can’t have that,” Evan snarked.

Connor laughed and made his way to the door. “Bye, Evan.”

Evan wildly thought that he liked the way Connor said his name. He wished he’d say it more often. “Bye, Connor,” he said quietly, and then he was gone. Evan listened to the footsteps going down the stairs, and the front door open and close, and he even strained to hear Connor’s car turn on and pull out of the driveway.

Then it was quiet, and the house was too big, and Evan wasn’t wholly convinced he hadn’t just imagined the whole thing. He wished he could text Connor and make sure he was real, but he’d forgotten to get his number.  _ Stupid.  _

He got ready for bed and fell asleep faster than he had in a long time.


	3. You've got daisies in your hair.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve noticed you sort of balance me out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wednesday

Evan woke up to his mom calling his name and the realization that his alarm had been going off for the last five minutes. He groaned and rolled over, squinting in the light pouring through his windows.

“Yeah?” he called out, throat rough from sleep.

“Can you come down here?”

He sighed and pulled himself out of bed. He traipsed halfway down the stairs and leaned over the bannister. “Yeah?” he repeated to the empty living room.

“I’m in the kitchen,” she said from the other side of the wall. Evan huffed and went the rest of the way downstairs.

“Yeah?” he said for a third time once they were in the same room.

She held up one of the tupperware containers with the eggplant parm. “Where did this come from?”

“O-oh, uh, C-Con— my friend, Connor—” he held up his cast in indication of the only name on it. “He— he gave me a ride home, um, yesterday? And he— he cooks. He’s in home ec. So he offered. To cook, I mean.”

Heidi had this patient look the whole time that he was stumbling over his words that irritated Evan to no end. It just looked so forced, and more like pity than understanding. “I’ve never heard you mention a Connor before,” she said.

“He’s— It’s— new.” Evan shrugged. “He offered to sign my cast.” It went unspoken that no one else did.

“That’s nice, sweetie.” She seemed to mean that, at least. “See, I told you this year would be different!” And back to false positivity.

“Uh, yeah,” Evan managed.

Heidi was squinting at the food again. “So did Connor just happen to have parmesan on him as well?”

Evan snorted at the image and his mom gave a genuine smile that time. “Uh, no. No he didn’t just _have cheese on him,_ Mom. He, uh, called Ms. G— he had her in second grade too— and asked if she had some? He said everyone else in the world always has parmesan in their fridge?”

Heidi tilted her head the same way Evan does. “Is that true?”

He shrugged. “Ms. G did.”

“Huh.” She looked down as she seemed to contemplate her existence for a few seconds.

“Uh,” Evan spoke up, rocking back on his heels. “You should take some— one of the containers— for lunch. It’s good.”

“Oh, okay, I will,” she said, and her tone had it’s usual brightness but her eyes betrayed how confused she still was. This conversation was very outside of the realm of their normal interactions which were mostly just— “Did you take your medicine?”

 _That._ Evan shook his head. “No, I just woke up. I will.”

“Do you want a ride to school?” She was already glancing at her watch worriedly.

Evan shook his head again. It was obvious she needed to leave now. “No, I’m good. I can walk.”

“Maybe Connor can drive you? You should text him and ask.”

“I don’t have his number.” (Not that he would if he did.)

“Oh.” She looked disappointed and sad again and Evan realized that this was her thinking that Evan didn’t _really_ make a new friend. Which was just so horrible and made his stomach twist uncomfortably. “Well you should ask for his number, sweetie.”

“Yeah, I will. I thought that after he left. It just didn’t come up. He was here until like nine—”

“Really?” She brightened back up again. “That long?”

And Evan heard the unspoken _‘You spoke to someone for that long? Someone wanted to be around you for that long?’_ He bit the inside of his cheek and fisted his sleep shirt into his hands. “We have a lot of classes together,” Evan defended himself weakly. “We were together for most of the day.” _He didn’t get annoyed with me. He didn’t get tired of me. Shut up shut up shut up._

“That’s great, sweetie!” Evan wished she didn’t have to sound so surprised. “I’m really happy for you! And I’d love to meet him!”

 _Yeah, maybe you could if you were ever home._ “Yeah, maybe,” he answered quietly.

She shoved the tupperware in her bag and Evan realized she probably didn’t believe him that it was actually good either, but he decided not to be offended by that. She’d be proven wrong when she actually ate it. 

He went back upstairs and got ready quickly, acutely aware of the amount of time he’d lost from sleeping through his alarm and having that long awkward conversation with his mom.

He ended up overcompensating though, because when he got to school he still had a half hour before the first bell rang and he was forced to stand awkwardly at his locker, staring at his phone. He scrolled through instagram despite the fact that he’d passed the “You’re all caught up!” check-mark about thirty posts back.

A hand smacked down on the locker next to him, making Evan jump and clutch at his chest. He looked over as Jared cackled at him. “Hey, Acorn. What’s up?”

Evan glared at him and tried to speak but his heart rate still wasn’t back to normal yet.

Jared zeroed in on the name scrawled across his cast. “Holy shit, is that Connor Murphy’s hancock on your arm?” he was yelling and Evan looked around wildly. “I heard a rumor that you and him were hanging out but I didn’t think it was actually true! What the hell, Evan? You know he’s crazy, right?”

“You— you heard a rumor?” Evan repeated incredulously. Who would bother to start a rumor about him? Most people didn’t even know who he was _._ “And— and don’t say that. No, he’s not.”

Jared rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “He threw a printer at Ms. G in second grade.”

“Jared, you know as well as I do that that’s not true. The printer fell—”

“He pushed it.”

“—off the desk, and Ms. G was nowhere near it. And— and besides, we went over to her house, yesterday, and she was excited to see Connor, actually, she hugged him, so obviously—”

“Wait, wait, wait! Back the fuck up! You took Connor Murphy to your house?!” 

“Would you stop yelling?” Evan hissed. “Yes, he offered me a ride home, and we… hung out.”

“You… ‘hung out’?” Jared repeated, mimicking Evan’s voice cruelly. “What the fuck does that even mean? Are you even capable of holding a conversation for more than five minutes without having a panic attack? Wait! Is this code for something? Holy shit, Evan! Are you fucking Connor Murphy?!”

“What? No! Jared, what—” Evan’s brain was short circuiting. 

“No, I guess he’d probably be fucking you, right?”

Evan squeezed his eyes shut and twisted the bottom of his shirt into a knot, completely unable to respond to this. “No— Will you just— It’s not— Connor is—” Evan sucked in a breath and it did absolutely nothing to help. He was hyperventilating now and it was so _stupid_ that Jared could do this to him and then just stand there and _laugh_ while Evan was _dying._ And he was sure everyone was looking at him now.

“Kleinman, what the fuck did you do to him?” Connor’s voice broke through the ringing in Evan’s ears and he looked up to see Connor standing over Jared. If looks could kill Jared would be dust.

Evan tried to breathe and failed again, instead only making himself dizzy. He fell back against the lockers and slid down until he was on the floor, knees pulled up to his chest and hands curled around his ankles. He put his head between his knees to try and keep from vomiting. There was more yelling above him that he couldn’t make out, and then someone walked away and someone was kneeling down beside him.

“Hey, Evan?” It was Connor’s voice again, but not as loud this time. He sounded scared and unsure and Evan didn’t know how to reassure him because he couldn’t speak or really even move right now. A hesitant hand landed on his shoulder and Evan leaned into it, desperately seeking out anything that could drag him back to reality. He let go of his pants leg with his good hand and reached up to grab Connor’s, relieved when Connor instantly wound their fingers together and squeezed tightly, further grounding him.

“Fuck, I really don’t know what to do…” Connor kept talking. “Are you okay? Wait, no, that’s a stupid question. Obviously you’re not okay. You’re having a panic attack. Shit, should I not say that? Do you have medicine or something? Like Xanax or whatever? Or an inhaler? Are you even breathing? Fuck, Evan.”

Some part of Evan wanted to laugh but he wasn’t exactly capable of that right now. Instead he made a vague twitching motion towards his bag and Connor reached over him to grab it, not letting go of Evan’s hand as he did— which Evan was grateful for. He managed to lift his head to watch Connor dig through the front pocket until he found his inhaler. He uncapped it and shook it before handing it over. Evan fumbled for it with his sweaty casted hand and then finally managed to inhale. He felt his lungs inflate properly and his breathing started to even out.

Connor seemed relieved, but he was still watching him carefully. He held up the pill bottle that he also found in Evan’s bag, but Evan shook his head vehemently. Connor looked like he wanted to argue, but ultimately decided against it, which again, Evan was grateful for. He didn’t want to take the medicine because it just made him tired and he still had a whole day of school he needed to get through. And today was supposed to be a good day. How is it already a bad day? Evan looked up to the hall clock to find that only eight minutes had passed since Jared had come up to him. The hallway was still mostly empty. He felt like it had been an hour, at least. He wanted to go back to sleep.

“Can you speak yet?” Connor asked.

Evan’s eyes found his again. “Um,” he said, or he kind of said it anyway. It was really quiet and weak and gross. He cringed and tried again. “Yes?” It was only a tiny bit better. “S-sorry.”

Connor’s brow furrowed. “Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault. It’s Kleinman who should be sorry—”

His grip on Evan’s hand tightened and Evan winced, involuntarily shifting away from Connor’s anger.

Connor realized what was going on and corrected himself, forgetting about Jared. “Shit, sorry, sorry. Fuck, I’m really bad at this.”

Evan shook his head. He’d never actually had anyone else with him when he had a panic attack, so he didn’t really have anyone else to compare Connor to, but usually his attacks lasted a lot longer than this. Maybe he always just needed someone to hold his hand? _Oh god, that’s so lame._ “You’re not bad,” he said quietly, and ran a thumb along Connor’s hand for emphasis. “Thank you.”

Connor reached up and brushed at Evan’s cheeks, and Evan only just processed that he’d been crying this entire time. “Oh god, I’m a mess,” he lamented. “I’m so sorry.” He tried to pull his hand away to wipe at his eyes himself, but Connor kept a firm hold of him.

“Not any more of a mess than me,” Connor said.

Evan let out a little laugh. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Oh, wow, okay, you’re fine.” Connor moved like he was gonna let go of his hand, but Evan held on tighter before he could, another mild shot of panic running through him at the thought that Connor might leave him here. Connor’s features softened, clearly reading Evan’s mind again. “Wanna get out of here?”

“W-we have school,” Evan protested weakly.

“Fuck school,” Connor said firmly. “Can you stand up?”

Evan nodded and let Connor pull him up. He started to bend down to get his bag, but Connor beat him to it, shouldering it before Evan could try and take it from him. “C’mon,” he said, tugging on Evan’s hand. “There’s somewhere I wanted to show you anyway.”

They walked out of school hand-in-hand, but Evan was too tired to worry about what other people would think. Well, he thought about it, but it was hard to care about much right now.

Connor let go of his hand when they reached his car. He shoved their bags in the back while Evan got in on the passenger side. He sunk into the seat and remembered what Connor had said about falling asleep in here. It would be so easy…

The other door opened and Connor got in, putting the key in the ignition and starting the engine that was probably still warm.

“W-where are we going?” Evan asked as Connor backed out, nearly hitting a group of girls before putting the car in drive and speeding out of the parking lot.

“You said you worked at Ellison this summer, yeah?” Connor asked instead of answering. Evan nodded. “So you’ve probably been to every park in Penfield, right?”

“Th-there’s a lot of parks here, Connor.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Evan sighed. “Yes,” he mumbled.

Connor chuckled. “Yeah. Of course. Well, okay. So I haven’t been to this place in like, years, cos it shut down. But I started thinking about it yesterday when you started going on about trees or whatever. There’s this orchard like, a bit outside of town. I know there’s a lot of orchards around here. You said that, right? Something about glaciers and apples?”

“Glacial ice melt carvings left fertile lands in and around Ellison Park that are used for apples, cherries, plums, peaches, and pears,” Evan recited from the manual he’d been given as a junior park ranger.

“Fruit trees,” Connor summed.

“Fruit trees,” Evan agreed.

“Which are like, hard to grow, right?”

Evan shrugged. “I guess.”

“You guess?” 

“I mean, all trees take a substantial amount of time and energy to grow— more than any other fruit-bearing kind of plant, anyway.”

“Right.” Connor seemed more satisfied with this answer. Apparently he preferred when Evan actually said what he knew. “Anyway, yeah, there’s a lot of orchards around here. Because of the glaciers. But we used to go to this one apple place all the time. And when it closed down I like, completely lost my shit, right? Because I was twelve and it was one of the few places where there weren’t ever a lot of people— I guess that’s why it closed down, heh.” He shook his head, “Anyway, I knew I wouldn’t ever run into anyone from school there. And Zoe and my Dad were always in good moods when we were there. So I thought it was important. Even though I guess it’s probably not any different from all the other orchards, really. But I just… I don’t know. All that shit you were saying about trees yesterday being peaceful or whatever… It reminded me of this place.”

“So we’re going to an abandoned apple orchard?”

“Yes.”

Evan sat back in his seat. “Okay.”

As they drove further away from town center, the amount of storefronts and houses thinned out until there were almost none. The roads became more winding and the drive was lined with trees. Evan found himself staring out the window, watching the scenery go by. He’d forgotten upstate New York was beautiful the further away from Rochester you got.

“Wait!” Connor took a sudden hard right onto a gravel driveway and Evan clutched at the seat, positive they were crashing. 

“Sorry!” Connor exclaimed, slowing the car. “Shit! I didn’t mean to—!”

“I’m fine!” Evan gasped, waving Connor off. “Just… what the heck?”

Connor smirked and Evan could tell he was trying really hard not to comment on the use of ‘heck.’ Instead he motioned out the windshield to the little store they were in front of. It didn’t have a sign, just hand-painted letters on the window deeming the squat building ‘A la Mode’ and some doodles of ice cream. “I can’t believe this place is still open!” Connor sounded like a kid, and Evan couldn’t stay mad at the grin plastered on his face. “They had this homemade hot fudge… I would always ask for just like a cup of that but mom always said I couldn’t just eat a cup of chocolate. So I’d get it on top of chocolate ice cream just to prove her wrong.”

Evan glanced at the clock. It was nine in the morning. “Are you saying you want to eat ice cream for breakfast?”

Connor looked at him with wide excited eyes. “Absolutely.”

And Evan was suddenly sure he would never be able to say no to that face. “Fine,” he sighed, and Connor practically jumped out of the car, running around to the other side in order to drag Evan along at the fast pace he deemed necessary.

A bell rang overhead as they entered and a middle-aged woman looked up in surprise. She also looked at a clock and processed that it was in fact, still way too early for ice cream, but she smiled nonetheless. “How can I help you?” she asked kindly, clearly thinking they were going to ask for directions.

“Do you guys still have that homemade hot fudge?” Connor asked, and that surprised her even more, though she nodded, looking more amused now than anything, apparently sensing Connor’s excitement.

Connor grinned and looked down to Evan. “You’re getting ice cream,” he told him.

“Connor, it’s 9AM.”

“Time is relative,” Connor waved him off.

“That— that’s not what that means!”

Connor ignored him in favor of ordering. “One scoop of chocolate and one scoop of strawberry, both in a cup, both with hot fudge, please.”

The woman smiled and nodded and went about scooping the ice cream. Evan took the opportunity to hit Connor’s arm. “You are not paying for me.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna make you pay for ice cream that I’m forcing you to get.”

“Forcing…” Evan repeated incredulously, but then they were being handed cups and Connor was handing over a ten and telling her to keep the change even though it was only a four dollar order. 

They went back outside and sat down at a rickety old picnic table. “See,” Connor said, “I got you strawberry cos its fruit. And you’re all up in arms about it being breakfast time. Now you can technically say you had fruit for breakfast.”

Evan huffed. “I am not ‘up in arms.’ I was just pointing out—”

“Eat your ice cream, Hansen.”

Evan sighed and stuck the strawberry-and-chocolate covered spoon in his mouth, then instantly regretted not preparing to pretend to be indifferent because it was the best ice cream and fudge he’s ever had.

Connor could read his expression. “Told you.”

“Why have I never heard of this place?” Evan demanded, taking another bite. 

“I can’t believe I forgot about it,” Connor said, digging into his cup of chocolate. “Out of curiosity, what is your favorite ice cream flavor?”

Evan flushed and mumbled, “Strawberry.”

“Wait, seriously?” Connor laughed as he nodded. “Maybe I’m psychic.”

Evan sighed, not even surprised at this point. “I’m starting to think you might be.”

“That’d be cool,” he mused. He had chocolate in the corner of his mouth but Evan decided he wasn’t gonna tell him that until they were leaving.

They finished their ice cream quickly and disposed of the cups and spoons. Evan grumbled something about single-use plastic and no recycling bin in sight, and Connor patted him on the shoulder and promised they’d get waffle cones next time.

 _Next time next time next time._ Evan played those words on repeat for the rest of the short drive up the road until they were stopping outside an old rusted gate with a faded sign that used to read ‘Autumn Smiles Apple Orchard’.

“Well at least it won’t be hard to get in,” Connor said blandly, getting out of the car. The gates themselves were pretty tall, but the wooden fence right next to it wasn’t, and the rails were still sturdy enough so that they just stepped on the bottom one and threw their legs over.

They started up a long gravel path that was clearly meant to be driven, and Evan was a little glad about the ice cream as the sugar was counteracting the exhaustion from the panic attack.

When they crested the hill though, all thoughts of his earlier panic vanished, as before them laid rows and rows of apple trees. Wild flowers grew between the paths, and all of it was so beautifully undisturbed. Evan let out a little gasp and practically dragged Connor the rest of the way into the orchard proper.

He kept his head tilted up to look at the canopy as they made their way through the rows. Connor asked him if he knew anything about apple trees, and Evan immediately started rambling off every fact he could think of.

He gasped and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw it. He hit Connor in the stomach (as that was the closest body part to his hand) and pointed at the two trees that had grown together— their conjoined branches forming a sort of arch at the end of the path. “Connor, look! Inosculation!”

“In-oscar-what-now?”

“Inosculation!” Evan ran the rest of the way to the trees until he was standing under the arch. “See how they grew together? It’s what happens when tree branches rub together and as they heal and reform they end up sharing cells and—!” he gestured grandly above him. “Inosculation!”

Connor was smiling this big open smile that Evan had never seen before, and he wildly thought Connor looked beautiful when he smiled. He should do that more often. Then he realized that he was probably smiling the same way right now.

“So are they technically one tree now?” Connor prompted, coming to stand with Evan.

“No, there’s still two different systems. You could cut one down and the other would take a bit of damage, obviously, but it could still live. They’re just… helping each other out.”

Connor’s features got all soft. “That’s poetic.”

Evan smirked. “Some people call them marriage trees.”

At that Connor snorted. “Okay, that’s lame.”

“Pretty sure it was lame before,” Evan rolled his eyes.

“Nah, trees are cool.” Connor shoved his hands in his pockets and casually walked away as if he hadn’t just sent Evan’s heart racing.

He chased after him. “Sorry, can you say that again?”

Connor glanced over, raising a brow. “Trees are cool?”

Evan stared up at him with wide eyed wonder. “Where have you been all my life?”

Connor snorted and pushed Evan away playfully. “Alright, dork.”

“I’m serious!” Evan laughed, jogging to keep up with Connor’s long gait. “We’ve been at the same school since what? Kindergarten? Why have I been friendless this entire time?” The humor disappeared by the time he got to the end of that sentence.

Connor studied him out of the corner of his eye, and Evan crossed his arms as a dark cloud settled over his thoughts. _You’re such an idiot, Hansen. You’ve been alone your entire life and you were too stupid to talk to the one other lonely kid at school? No, not stupid. Scared. You were too scared to talk to him. You’re a bad person. You’re the reason you’ve both suffered. Maybe you wouldn’t have climbed that tree—_

“Hey,” Connor broke through the thoughts. “Where’d you go?”

The sugar high was wearing off. He shook his head, trying to get it to shut up. “Sorry, I just— I suck.”

“Nah, fuck that. That’s just your brain being an asshole. I’d tell you if you sucked.”

Evan smirked. “So you’re saying I should trust you and not my brain?”

“Yes.”

“Sounds cultish.”

That made Connor laugh. He threw an arm around Evan’s shoulders. Evan decided he liked the weight of Connor’s arm around him. He liked being pulled close to someone rather than constantly being held at arm's length and pushed away.

They came to the edge of a yellow field that separated the orchard from the forest. There were random patches of flowers everywhere, dotting the field in color. It was beautiful.

“Wow,” they breathed together, and then shared an amused look. Connor moved his arm so that he could tug on Evan’s hand. “C’mon,” he said, and led them out to the middle of the field before sitting down and lying back, motioning for Evan to follow him before putting his arms behind his head.

Evan stared down at him for a few moments longer. His hair fanned out around him and the bright light of the sun made it seem like he was glowing. Evan had never seen Connor look so at peace before. Slowly, hoping not to disturb the image, he laid down beside him. The sky stretched on above them for forever.

Connor pointed to a cloud. “That one looks like an armadillo.”

Evan turned to see his face, but Connor wasn’t looking at him. He followed his arm to see what cloud he meant. “I think it looks more like a badger.”

He scoffed. “You would, Hufflepuff.”

Evan pointed to another cloud. “That one’s a pineapple.”

“Oh my god, you’re right.”

They went on like that for a while, until Evan felt his eyelids getting heavier, and his speech started to slur. He was asleep before he knew it.

He blinked slowly awake to find Connor sitting cross-legged beside him, tying together daisies. Evan squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, willing the strange hallucination away, but only finding it to be more clear the second time around.

“Am I dreaming?” he asked out loud, still not lifting his head.

“I don’t think so. Sit up, I made you a flower crown.”

Evan did as he was told and instantly felt the flowers go around his head. He rubbed at his eyes and looked around confusedly. “How long was I out?”

Connor shrugged. “Nearly two hours? I fell asleep at some point in there too.” He finished tying the second flower crown and shoved that one on his head. Evan was not still wholly convinced he was awake.

“Why did you make flower crowns?”

“Zoe and I used to make them all the time,” he answered, looking away. “I only just remembered.”

“Oh.” Evan processed this. It wasn’t the first time he’s mentioned Zoe. He clearly cared about her a lot. “You used to be close?” he asked.

Connor tensed slightly, but not enough to make Evan feel like he needed to take it back. “Yeah,” he answered, looking down to his hands. “But. Now I suck. So.”

“You don’t suck,” Evan said automatically.

“No, I really do. I’ve said some really terrible shit to her. I really really suck.”

Evan remembered the phone call from yesterday. “I can’t pretend to know anything about the situation but… I heard what she said to you yesterday on the phone. It doesn’t sound like she’s being very nice to you either.”

“I deserve it.”

“No one deserves to be treated badly.”

“You sound like my therapist.”

“They sound smart.”

Connor let out a surprised laugh at Evan’s cheek and slapped his knee lightly. “God, how do you do that, Hansen?”

“Do what?”

“Make me say shit. My therapist can’t even do that. And she has a degree.”

Evan frowned. “You should probably talk to your therapist, Connor. That’s kind of the whole point.” He was technically being a hypocrite, but that was neither here nor there.

“Last time I did that they put me in rehab,” he muttered bitterly.

Evan winced and his chest got tight. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Me too.”

Connor’s head snapped up, brow furrowing. “What?”

Evan’s mouth went dry. He didn’t want to say it. No one but his mom knew about it. But Connor was looking at him with so much hope, and Evan recognized that— that hope that maybe there was someone else who understood what it felt like. So he managed to get words past the lump in his throat. “Yeah, um, seventh grade? You— you probably don’t remember, but I was out of school for— for a while. I, uh, I don’t really remember what happened exactly— all that well? Um. I sort of went… I don’t know. When I was younger I used to… Well, I didn’t have medication yet. So things were really bad. Just. Just all the time. And I was home alone. Cos I was— I am— always home alone. And I just—” Evan cut himself off to suck in a shuddering breath and he realized he had tears running down his face. He wiped at them desperately. “There were pills— and—” He could feel the vomit in his throat again and he started choking on air now. He could hear the ambulance sirens and remembered praying that they’d let him die. He clutched at his ears to try and block out the noise in his head and sobbed.

“Shit. Fuck, fuck, Evan!” Connor was at his side in an instant, pulling him close and letting Evan collapse and sob against his chest. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. You’re okay. You’re okay now.” He was crying too.

Evan curled his hands into the fabric of Connor’s hoodie until his knuckles turned white, desperate to be grounded to something real.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, Evan.” Connor was rocking him back and forth and Evan let himself focus on the motion and the rhythm of Connor’s heart. Slowly, very slowly, he started to come back down.

He pulled back so he could look at Connor, though he kept a firm grip on his (now damp) hoodie. “S-Sorry,” he said when he saw how red Connor’s eyes were.

Connor wiped at Evan’s cheeks again. “Stop apologizing when you haven’t done anything wrong. I’m sorry I asked. That was stupid of me. Especially right after you just had a freaking panic attack.”

Evan shrugged. “I get wanting to know.”

Connor let out a hard breath and closed his eyes. “Me too,” he said eventually.

“Connor, you don’t have to—”

He shook his head and grabbed Evan’s hand. “It was freshman year for me. I’d already been cutting for a while. I didn’t have meds or therapy or anything like that. I was completely out of control. And I just. Went deeper that time. My mom found me.”

Connor’s tears had dried but Evan was crying even more now. He could guess what happened after that because it happened to him too. An ambulance ride that cost too much, followed by a hospital bill that cost too much. A visit from a social worker, and they were both too young and too stupid to realize you don’t tell her the truth. Then she signs away the next four to six weeks of his life and he’s sent to a mental institution for at-risk youth. 

Evan had been an inpatient for eight months because he was such a bad liar and couldn’t play the system. And that’s how long it took them to finally put him on meds and then find ones that worked well enough that Evan didn’t actively want to die. The only thing that experience had done for him was make him wish he’d succeeded.

“God, we’re a mess,” Evan complained, wiping at his face.

“The flower crown still looks good though.”

Evan’s mouth fell open as he reached up to feel the flowers still firmly in place around his head. “Oh my god.” Connor had taken his off probably right before Evan had started sobbing, but Evan had just gone through all of that with a freaking flower crown on. “I can’t believe you just told me that while I had daisies in my hair.”

“It kind of made it easier?”

“Oh my god.” He took the flower crown off.

Connor pursed his lips. “I’m hungry,” he declared suddenly, standing up and holding his hand out for Evan. Because apparently he was just really good at pretending they didn’t just bare their souls and cry all over each other.

They stayed mostly silent as they made their way back through the orchard. Evan ran his hand along the bark of the trees and kept his head tilted back, allowing the orchard to soothe him. Connor reached up and picked an apple from the marriage tree when they passed under it again. He tossed it in his hand for a while but never actually bit into it. When they got to the gates he set the apple on one of the posts and left it there as they got back into the car.

“I meant for that to be peaceful,” Connor said as they started back down the road.

“It was,” Evan protested immediately. Connor gave him a disbelieving look out of the corner of his eye though, so Evan continued. “It was. I really loved it. I want to go back. And I actually… I feel better now?”

Connor still didn’t seem to believe him. “Are you about to tell me you’re one of those people who thinks crying is cathartic?”

Evan made a gross involuntary noise with the mucus that was still gathered in the back of his throat that made him hate himself a little more, but also helped to emphasize his point. “No, absolutely not. Crying is the— the worst and I should know because I cry all the time— at everything.”

“That just means you feel everything deeper than everyone else.”

“It sucks.” _That’s why I let go._

Connor shrugged. “I either feel everything too much and it makes me lose control, or I feel nothing and I’m numb to my own existence.” His voice was hollow as he said this, worse than when he was describing his suicide attempt. “But I’ve noticed—” he cut himself off, biting down hard on his lip and gripping the steering wheel.

Evan leaned forward to try and see his face past the curtain of dark curly hair. “What?” he prompted.

Connor’s eyes stayed fixed on the horizon in front of them, contemplating whether or not he really wanted to say whatever he was thinking. Right when Evan thought he wasn’t going to, Connor opened his mouth again, speaking very quietly, “I’ve noticed you sort of balance me out.”

Evan blinked, taking that in. He tried to think of the appropriate response to that. _I’ve noticed that too? I’m glad? Probably because I’m such a disaster that you feel put together by comparison?_

That last one was probably accurate. Evan was outwardly broken, between the stuttering and crying and rambling, no one could mistake him for being anything other than riddled with anxiety. But Connor’s pain was all bottled up inside until it exploded violently outwards — as opposed to Evan, whose brain lashed out at himself rather than at the people around him. People looked at Connor and instead of inspiring sympathy, they just thought he needed an attitude adjustment.

But Evan didn’t think that. And Evan appreciated how straightforward Connor was because it left so little room for his brain to tell him that Connor was only doing all this because he felt bad for him. And Evan’s rambling actually came in handy because it meant he over explained his thought process and then Connor’s paranoia had little room left to tell him Evan was playing some elaborate prank. Especially as they got to know each other more and they realized both of those things were outside of the realm of their personalities.

“Yeah,” Evan finally managed. “You too— you balance me out too.”

“You’ve had two panic attacks in the last five hours,” Connor pointed out blandly.

“Yeah, but they were a lot shorter than they normally are.” Evan cleared his throat. “I don’t… I don’t normally have anyone with me who— who helps.”

Connor just nodded silently.

“And I do want to go back to the orchard. Sometime. Soon.” Evan added.

“It wasn’t ruined for you?”

He shook his head. “No. Was it for you?”

“No.”

Evan let out a relieved breath. He really really liked the orchard. He probably would have walked the sixty miles back if he had to, but he was glad he didn’t have to. “Okay, good.”

Connor seemed to read his mind again. “I wouldn’t want to keep you away from all those trees.”

Evan flushed. “What— whatever. You said trees are cool. You— you said that. You can’t take it back.”

“I’m not taking it back,” Connor replied mildly as he turned into the parking lot of the little roadside dinner that they’d passed on the way there. “I am taking you to lunch though.”

“I can pay for myself!” Evan protested.

Connor just shook his head and took the keys out of the ignition. “What’s the point in having rich parents if I’m not spending their money? Besides, I’m either gonna buy you lunch or I’m gonna buy myself weed. Which would you prefer?”

Evan glared at him and Connor laughed.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

They went inside and sat in a corner booth by the window. There were laminated sheets of A4 on the table that had still managed to turn brown despite the plastic covering. Clearly, their menu had not changed in a very long time.

Evan immediately began to read the options in dismay. There was no way he’d ever be able to choose anything. It all seemed equally _fine_ , it all had equal potential to go horribly wrong. This is why he always Googled menus if he had to go out.

He was so caught up in the entrees that he completely forgot to look at the drink options, so his eyes went wide when their waitress came up to them and asked what they wanted to drink. _What if I say coke and she asks if pepsi is okay and I’m too awkward to say no so then I just have this disgusting glass of pepsi that Connor will have to pay for even though I won’t drink it or maybe I will try to drink it and get a stomach ache or not be able to hide how much I hate it and Connor will know—_

Connor looked to Evan and read his face quickly. “Two Cokes, please,” he ordered and the waitress nodded before turning away.

Evan sucked in the air he hadn’t managed to get properly in the last 60 seconds. “Thanks.”

Connor nodded. “Do you wanna just get burgers and fries?” he offered casually, and it was obvious what he was doing, but Evan was too thankful to be (too) embarrassed.

“Sure,” he agreed, also attempting to be casual, but he probably wasn’t as successful.

“Are you a plain burger person?” Connor asked knowingly.

Evan bit the inside of his cheek because the honest answer was yes, but only because it was the easiest way to make ordering go as quickly as possible with as few questions being asked of him. Otherwise he’d have to specify that he doesn’t like mustard, or not do that and get mustard and not eat. But even still sometimes they’ll ask if he wants cheese anyway, even though cheese is obviously a topping, and if he’d wanted cheese he would have said a cheeseburger not just a burger, but then Evan will panic-nod and _then_ they’ll ask what kind of cheese he wants even though obviously he doesn’t know what kind of cheese they even have and he’ll have to ask what they have and then they’ll give a huge list of cheeses that he doesn’t even know the differences between and— 

“Wait, hold on,” Connor interrupted his thoughts again. “Let me use my psychic abilities.” He had this little teasing smile that made Evan relax and kind of want to smile too. “You like cheese but you almost never get it because you don’t know the differences between cheese, and you usually don’t get toppings because you don’t want to be too complicated?”

Evan huffed, only a little annoyed about how predictable he was. “Maybe.”

Connor laughed with this shit-eating grin, clearly proud of himself. “Okay, well, cheddar cheese is the only acceptable form of burger cheese. Whether or not it’s white is irrelevant. Which toppings don’t you like?”

Evan squinted at him. “Guess.”

He mirrored the look, eyes scanning him up and down like he was doing an assessment. “Mustard,” he finally decided, and it didn’t come out as a question.

“Okay, how on _earth_ do you know that??”

Connor cackled, sitting back in his seat. “Lucky guess,” he admitted. “Zoe hates mustard too.” He watched Evan’s features soften. “Is that all though?”

 _Yes, the main reason I get anxious about ordering burgers is because I’m too afraid to say ‘no mustard.’ And that one little thing is the reason I’m never happy whenever I get a burger. Because I’m a human disaster who will never be happy because I will always be like this—_ “Yep.”

“Do you want me to order for you?”

“O-oh you don’t have to—”

“Great, I will then.” 

Evan took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

The waitress returned with their drinks and Connor ordered two burgers with cheddar cheese and no mustard and a side of fries and then she was gone again and Evan was really annoyed with himself.

“I should be able to do that.”

Connor shrugged. “It’s not a big deal that you can’t though.”

“No, it’s just pathetic.”

Connor sighed and sat forward. “Your therapist is constantly telling you that the only way to get over anxiety is to do the things that make you anxious, right?” Evan nodded. “And that’s true. And yeah, maybe at some point in your life you can try ordering something complicated, but only when _you_ feel like you can. There’s no point having a panic attack over a hamburger, y’know? Sometimes you just can’t. People aren’t going around telling people in wheelchairs that they should be able to walk just because everyone else can.”

“That— that’s different,” Evan protested.

“How so?”

“It’s— it’s permanent! And I know, I know anxiety is too. But it’s— I can force myself to talk. Paralyzed people can’t force themselves to move.”

“Most people who use wheelchairs aren’t paralyzed. Walking is just harder for them sometimes. Just like talking is harder for you sometimes. You shouldn’t force yourself to be in pain for someone else. That’s just stupid.”

“It’s not— _pain—_ ”

“Isn’t it?”

Evan pressed his lips together. In all honesty, yeah, anxiety and panic attacks were fucking _painful._ His chest got tight and his throat hurt and he couldn’t breathe and sometimes he even vomited— all while his head was screaming at him that he was useless and stupid and gonna die any minute.

Connor tapped the table to get his attention again. “Don’t buy into the bullshit that chronic mental illness isn’t just as real as chronic physical illness.”

“They’re still different.”

“Definitely. They really aren’t even comparable. But I’m trying to make a point.”

Evan huffed at that but he nodded because he got Connor’s point anyway, which was essentially that he needed to stop being an asshole to himself. “I didn’t realize you had such strong feelings about this.”

He shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of time alone in my room to think about all the things I wish I said to my dad.”

“Does he not believe you’re sick?”

Connor tensed for a moment and Evan was about to apologize and rephrase, but Connor recovered quickly, sighing and shaking his head. “No, he does. He just thinks that the best way to deal with it is by forcing me to do stupid shit when I feel like shit already. He’ll see that I’m having a bad day but insist that I go to school or whatever because it’s ‘good for me’ and ‘structure is important’ even though school only ever makes it worse because everyone—” He cut himself off, hands curling into fists. “He just doesn’t get it. He thinks there’s a ‘right way’ to do something and he just won’t _listen_ to anything else.”

Evan nodded in understanding. “That sucks.”

Connor huffed out a little laugh and his posture started to unwind. “Yeah, it does.”

“I hope school won’t suck as much anymore though,” Evan added hesitantly. “Because, um, well, I hope I— I mean—”

“Yeah, you make it suck less, Hansen.”

Evan let out a breath. “Great. Good. You— you also make it suck less.”

“Good.”

Their food arrived then, and for the first time in Evan’s life he was not horribly disappointed by a hamburger. He ate the entire thing and most of his fries. 

Connor didn’t eat his whole burger, but he did eat all of the fries and the rest of Evan’s. “Fried potatoes are the best,” he declared.

Evan smirked. “How very Irish of you.”

“That’s racist.”

He scoffed. “You’re white.”

“Fight me.”

Evan tapped his cast. “I’ve got a weapon.”

“With my name on it. That legally means you’re not allowed to hit me with it.”

“ _‘Legally’?_ ”

“Legally.”

“I think you might need to look up the definition of that word.”

“No I don’t. It’s a law.”

“Where?”

“In the law book.”

“Oh of course. Well if it’s in _the law book…_ ”

They went through all this while Connor was signing the check, leaving a 20 dollar tip on a 12 dollar meal. Evan thought about commenting on this apparent habit of his, but decided to just file it away for later. Either way it was nice. Another unexpected and lovely fact about Connor Murphy.

It was nearly 2 o’clock by the time they left the diner and it took over an hour to get back into town, so there was really no point in pretending they were gonna go back to school for the last fifteen minutes of seventh period. 

“Is your mom gonna be home this afternoon?” Connor asked once they crossed over the town line.

“No,” Evan picked at his cast. “Work and class.” That reminded him he hadn’t looked at his phone all day though, and he unbuckled his seatbelt to reach back and dig around in his bag. He warned Connor as he did, “Don’t get in a wreck. I’ll die.”

“Well, if _you’ll_ die…”

Evan found his phone and three missed texts from his mother. (None from Jared, which didn’t surprise him, but the confirmation still hurt.)

 **Mom:** _Have a good day at school, sweetie! :)_

 **Mom:** _Oh wow your friend is an excellent chef! He can come over and cook whenever he wants!_

 **Mom:** _Are you okay? I won’t be home until late again. Call me if you need anything. Or text. Whatever._

“My mom liked your food,” he told Connor as he informed his mother that he was, in fact, fine, and also that Connor was giving him a ride home. Both of which were true, it just omitted the probably important detail of _where_ he was getting a ride back _from._ She didn’t need to know what didn’t hurt her.

“So you’re gonna be home alone again?” Connor asked, and Evan looked up to find Connor’s expression carefully blank, though the slight frown and pull of his brow gave him away.

“Connor, I’m fine. That was five years ago.” _Also a few weeks ago._

Connor glanced down to Evan’s arm as he sighed, and Evan was once again forced to wonder just how far Connor’s intuition went. “Look,” he said, “you don’t like to be home alone, and I don’t like to be at home. You have a garden full of vegetables and no idea how to cook them. I have cooking skills and nowhere to use them. I’m just saying, I think we’ve found a perfect solution to our problems.”

Evan tried to fight back a smile. “And this way we both eat and neither one of us goes crazy?”

“Exactly.”

“Well I can’t argue with such sound logic.”

“Glad we can agree.” Connor turned into the grocery store. “But I’m gonna have to stock your kitchen if this is going to work out.”

“Connor, you can’t— you can’t buy groceries for me. That’s too far.” Evan protested as they parked.

He was already grabbing his wallet and opening the car door though. “Then don’t think of it as me buying it for you. I’m gonna be eating all this too.”

Evan groaned and chased him through the parking lot. “Also,” Connor added, “It’s not my money. It’s my parents money. And I’m gonna spend it either way. Might as well be on groceries and not—”

“If you make the weed argument again, I swear to god.”

Connor laughed and threw his hands up in surrender, though he didn’t finish his original sentence. He just grabbed a cart and walked into the produce section, trusting Evan to follow him.

“We should have thought to pick apples,” he said when they came to the display for the fruit being sold at $1.75 per pound. “It’s free there.”

Evan chuckled and patted his arm. “Next time.” _Next time next time next time._

Connor sighed and steered the cart away from the fruit and towards the green stuff. He grabbed a lot of different green stuff, and Evan made a mental list of all of it, thinking he could probably just add it to his garden at home and save them (or Connor’s parents anyway) next time. He also got zucchini, squash, avocados, and like three different kinds of potatoes.

“Why so many potatoes?” Evan asked as they made their way over to the deli counter.

“Potatoes are God,” Connor answered flippantly, and then proceeded to get a pound each of roast beef, turkey, and white american cheese.

“Not cheddar?” Evan tilted his head curiously, munching on the sample of turkey the butcher had given him. Connor was now grabbing different kinds of raw meat, including a whole chicken.

“American cheese is more versatile.”

“I thought American cheese was the stuff that comes in the little individual packets.”

“That is not cheese, Hansen.”

Evan’s eyes widened. “What— what is it?” he asked warily.

“No one knows.”

“That’s not— Someone has to know! There’s— there’s rules? The FDA—”

“They don’t know either.”

Evan glared at Connor’s profile. When they got to the dairy aisle he strayed away from Connor’s perusal of the shredded cheeses in order to find the Kraft Singles. He grabbed it and went back over to Connor to read out the ingredients.

Connor clearly wasn’t listening as he put cream cheese and heavy cream in the cart, along with a dozen eggs and a value pack of butter. “It’s mostly chemicals, dude. Cheese should not have the consistency of jello.” He took the fake cheese from him and tossed it into the fridge next to the milk. Evan huffed and took it back out so he could go put it where it belonged.

When he got back to the cart Connor had moved on to the bakery. He got a fancy-looking loaf of bread that Evan would have definitely been too self-conscious to have ever picked up himself, and Evan busied himself by looking at the deserts while Connor got a bakery worker to slice it for them.

“Do you want to bake a cake?” Connor asked.

Evan squinted at him. “You know how to bake a cake?”

Connor shrugged. “That was like week two of home ec sophomore year.” He grabbed the now-sliced loaf from the lady with a polite thank you and then they went down the grain aisle. Connor got a few different kinds of pasta and rice.

“What’s the difference between Italian and Chinese noodles?” Evan asked.

“ _Noodles,_ ” Connor repeated amusedly and Evan glared at him. “Uh, different kinds of flour, I think?”

“You think?”

“I don’t know they just taste different, dude.”

“ _Dude,_ ” Evan repeated pointedly and Connor laughed as he threw a number of different spices into the cart.

When they got to the snack aisle though, Connor’s grown-up buying ceased as he grabbed potato chips, corn chips, funyuns, doritos, and pringles.

“Connor, what the heck?”

“ _Heck,_ ” he mocked, looking really proud of himself this time. “My mom doesn’t let us keep junk food in the house. I’m seventeen. I need this stuff to survive.”

“I’m pretty sure this much sodium could kill a man.”

“Death by funyuns is my chosen way to go.” Connor grabbed a twelve pack of coke and shoved it underneath the cart. “I didn’t see your freezer. Do you have ice cream?”

“We don’t need ice cream.”

“That’s a no then.” He directed the cart towards the freezer aisle. “There’s this one brand you have to try. Obviously it’s not as good as A-la Mode, but as far as store-bought ice cream goes, it’s the best. I don’t normally like packaged strawberry ice cream, but these people do it right.” He picked up a carton of Tillamook brand strawberry ice cream and the chocolate one as well and added them to the now well-over full cart. “Okay, I think that’s all we need.”

“ _Need,_ ” Evan repeated, this time with more disbelief than mockery.

“Yes, food is a necessity, Evan.”

“Evan.” And this time the repetition was completely mindless. He just really liked when Connor said his name.

Connor raised a brow. “Okay, that one didn’t work as well.”

“What?” Evan processed what he’d said and turned bright red. “O-oh. No. I didn’t. S-sorry. I just— I just noticed that you don’t say my name? A lot? My first name, I mean. And I just—” Evan cleared his throat awkwardly. Now was really not the time to ramble. Now would be a very bad time to accidentally say what he was thinking. “Yeah.”

Connor smirked, like he knew what Evan was thinking anyway. “Okay, Evan.”

And he did his best not to look like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. _What the heck was going on?_ He kept his mouth shut just to be safe as they went though check out, and he very carefully did not look at the total because he was absolutely positive it would give him an anxiety attack right then. Connor swiped his card like it was no big deal and Evan pretended it wasn’t.

He managed to speak again as they were putting all the bagged groceries into the back of Connor’s car. “Plastic bags are horrible for the environment,” he lamented, staring in dismay at the trunk full of single-use, non-recyclable, turtle-suffocating plastic. “I can’t believe they don’t at least offer paper bags.”

Connor shut the trunk. “I will buy reusable bags,” he promised. “I thought about it while we were in there but they were like five bucks a bag and I know you can get way more for way less online.” They got into the car and he handed Evan his phone, already unlocked. “Here, find reusable bags. I’m sure you know better than me.”

Evan did actually know exactly what bags to get (a portion of the proceeds went towards ocean clean-up efforts), and he was too worried about the amount of plastic bags in the trunk right now to be embarrassed about that.

“Oh, and put your number in there too,” Connor added, and Evan looked up to see he was a little too-focused on the road, his grip a little too-tight on the wheel. Maybe one day their brains would stop telling them this was all too good to be true. It would take time though.

“Sure,” Evan said, attempting to mimic the easy-going tone Connor always used whenever Evan was being overly self-conscious. He added his name and number to the contacts list (finding it just as painfully devoid as Evan’s was) and texted himself before he could decide that was a bad idea. “I have yours now too,” he told Connor, and it was so annoying that saying that made him nervous. _You just spent the entire day together. You literally cried on each other. Exchanging numbers is not bigger than that. Why does it feel bigger than that?_

“Cool,” Connor said, and he sounded just as breathy as Evan. _God, they were hopeless._

Thankfully, they pulled into Evan’s driveway and the tension was cut as they opened their doors.

They both grabbed more bags than was really reasonable (though Evan was inhibited by having only one working arm), and they managed to make it only two trips each for groceries and then another for their backpacks. Connor locked his car from the porch and went back inside to help Evan unpack.

“Find the ice cream first,” he said when he got into the kitchen. “This is not amateur hour.”

Evan stopped what he was doing with the chips and got the ice cream, shoving them in the freezer along with all the frozen Trader Joe’s meals that Heidi kept in there.

And Evan was struck by how oddly domestic the last hour had been as they moved around each other in the kitchen, stocking the fridge and pantry until it was nearly bursting. The last 48 hours since Connor had signed his cast had been odd. He’d say it was like a fantasy, but the anxiety and panic and paranoia and crying kept him from that— which was almost good because it sort of proved he wasn’t just hallucinating? He knew he’d be coming downstairs to make sure all this food was really here as soon as Connor was gone. Just to make sure it wasn’t a dream.

“My mom is going to be so confused when she gets home,” Evan said when they finished. He was staring at the fancy bread sitting on his counter. “I have no idea how I’m going to explain this to her.”

“If my parents decide to look at my bank statement I’m gonna have a hell of a time. There’s no way they’ll believe the truth.”

Evan was reminded of the phone call with Zoe yesterday. “The truth?” _Which part?_

“That I have a friend.” His voice was devoid of emotion and Evan decided he hated when Connor sounded like that. 

But his heart also started doing backflips at the word ‘friend.’ _Pathetic._ He didn’t care. “Want me to go over there as evidence?”

Connor’s head snapped around to look at him. “Would you do that?”

The idea of meeting Connor’s parents sounded terrifying, and Evan was absolutely sure it would go horribly wrong. But he was also absolutely sure that he’d do it anyway. Maybe this is what Connor meant about doing things that made him anxious only when he felt like he could. He could do it for Connor. “Yeah, of course.”

Connor gave him this little soft smile that made the twisting in his gut worth it.

Evan smirked, “And for what it’s worth, I’m pretty sure my mom thinks you’re made up too.”

“Didn’t you say she liked the eggplant?”

“She probably thinks Ms. G made it or something.” Connor tensed for a second and Evan rushed to add, “I told her about you. I said you made it. But I think she gave up hope of me making actual friends a long time ago. When I told her I didn’t have your number she looked like she thought I was lying.”

Connor scrunched up his face, annoyed on Evan’s behalf. “That fucking sucks.”

Evan shrugged. “It’s not her fault. She at least tries to be positive. It just sounds really fake and forced, y’know? But I get it. I haven’t exactly been loaded down with friends these last seventeen years.”

“My parents just think I have an unlikeable personality.”

“That’s worse.”

“I guess so.”

“And I happen to like your personality, so, clearly they’re wrong.”

Connor smirked. “Or you’re just really weird.”

Evan huffed. “That is irrelevant.”

“I’m weird too.”

 _He is._ There was plenty of proof. Randomly making (forcing) conversation in the computer lab, waiting by Evan’s locker, insisting on making him eggplant parmesan, calling up Evan’s neighbor (who happened to be their second grade teacher) and asking for cheese, listening contently to Evan’s plant lectures, taking him to an abandoned orchard because Evan had a panic attack, insisting on eating ice cream at nine o’clock in the morning, insisting on stocking Evan’s entire kitchen— Heck, just _voluntarily spending time with Evan_ technically made Connor Murphy weird because no one else would ever do that.

 _He was just as desperate for a friend as you were,_ Evan suddenly realized, and the thought was oddly comforting. “Do you wanna watch something on Netflix?” he offered.

In answer, Connor grabbed the doritos from what was now the snack cabinet and went into the living room.

As they were going through the menu Connor flippantly mentioned that he’s never seen _Parks & Rec _, and Evan promptly insisted that they watch it right now, immediately, this very second.

“Should have guessed you would watch a show about parks,” Connor said as he clicked play on episode one.

“It’s not about…” Evan sighed at the look Connor was giving him. “Okay, _fine,_ that’s why I started watching but it’s actually about—”

“No spoilers!”

“I wasn’t gonna—”

“Shhh…” He put his finger to his lips and then pointed to the screen. Evan rolled his eyes but stopped talking and settled in to re-binge-watch one of his favorite shows.

Mid-way through the first episode Connor decided, “You’re such a Leslie.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment,” Evan said before his brain could tell him otherwise.

“You should.”

They got through four episodes before Connor decided the doritos weren’t cutting it anymore and he went back to the kitchen to start making dinner. Evan dutifully paused the TV and offered to help, but Connor told him not to worry about it and Evan was a little glad he didn’t have to start functioning again yet.

He didn’t realize he still had Connor’s phone in his pocket until it vibrated a few times in succession and he took it out thinking it was his own.

 **Zoe:** _Okay, where are you?_

 **Zoe:** _Jessica said she saw you and Evan Hansen leaving before class even started? And people were saying he had a complete breakdown in the hall this morning?_

 **Zoe:** _I don’t care what you’re doing or what you did. I just need to know you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere._

Evan swallowed around the lump in his throat. His stomach and chest twisted painfully. _People saw you freak out. Everyone knows you’re a mess now. Everyone is talking about how messed up you are._ Evan forced himself to stand up and go into the kitchen.

Connor looked up as he entered and immediately processed Evan’s pale face and shaking hands. “Evan? What’s wrong? What happened?” 

He held out the phone and Connor’s brow pulled together as he took it. He read the messages quickly and swore under his breath.

“Someone was—” Evan wheezed. “Someone else was in— the hallway— they saw— they _know—_ ”

Connor’s fists clenched and for a second he looked so mad Evan thought he was about to get yelled at. _He’s mad you read his texts. He thinks you’re upset people saw you with him. He’s gonna leave. He’s gonna leave you just like everyone else. And then you’ll be alone. You’ll always be alone. You’ll always be like this. You mess everything up. You’re messed up._

But then the expression cleared and he pulled Evan into a hug. “I’m sorry. I know it sucks. People suck. They don’t have any fucking right to say shit but they do anyway and it fucking sucks.”

He still sounded angry, but it was directed at the rest of the world and not Evan. Evan sank into the hug, tightening his arms around Connor’s waist, partly because he wanted to, and partly because he knew some part of Connor’s brain still thought Evan was upset about being seen with him. “Not you,” he managed, and it wasn’t anything near everything he wanted to say— it wasn’t even a full sentence, but Connor seemed to get it anyway. His hold tightened protectively and Evan allowed himself to believe that Connor actually could protect him from his own head.

They stayed like that until both of their heart rates settled down, and Connor pulled away so that he could pick up his phone and text his sister.

“Don’t be mad at her,” Evan whispered, still not fully able to find his voice.

Connor huffed and deleted whatever he’d written and tried again, then he turned it around to show Evan after he sent it, which Evan was thankful for because it was one less unknown for his brain to worry over.

_‘I’m at Evan’s again. We’re not dead. It was just a hard day and school would have made it worse.’_

Zoe replied as Evan was still reading: _‘Okay, I believe you. Stay safe.’_

Evan glanced back up to Connor. “It… she cares about you… too. I… I know you said… but…” _This is not the time to bring this up when you clearly can’t speak coherently, Hansen._

“Yeah, maybe.” Evan recognised the tone. Connor couldn’t let himself hope. He’d been let down by her before.

Connor sighed and looked around the kitchen. “I know I just bought all this stuff to make food but…”

“I’m too tired to eat much too,” Evan agreed.

“Grilled cheese?” Connor offered and Evan nodded. He sat on the counter and watched as Connor took out four slices of the fancy bread, the butter, the cheese, and a frying pan. And while the sandwiches were cooking he found a can of tomato soup that they definitely didn’t just buy but was already in Evan’s pantry for some reason. He heated it up quickly in a saucepan, adding a few seasonings including some fresh basil, before transferring it to a bowl and finishing the sandwiches.

He leaned next to Evan on the counter and they ate there instead of moving to the table. Once again, Evan hadn’t known something as simple as grilled cheese and tomato soup could taste so good. Even the bread was blowing his mind.

“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten anything other than wonder bread,” he said around a rather large bite.

Connor chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know if I want to know more about how bad your diet was. I’m starting to worry.”

Evan grimaced. “I thought I just didn’t like food.” _That’s what happens when you always order what’s easiest instead of what you actually want._ He shoved more of the sandwich into his mouth greedily. 

“I’m suddenly understanding old women’s obsession with feeding people. I’m like weirdly proud of myself right now.”

Evan snorted. “Connor Murphy has maternal instincts.”

Connor flushed slightly and slapped Evan’s knee. “Shut up, dork.”

They finished eating quickly and cleaned up even faster. The events of the day were starting to hit them finally, and by the time they got up to Evan’s room they were completely exhausted, all but collapsing into his bed.

They just laid there with their eyes closed until Connor mumbled. “I should probably go home.”

Evan’s face immediately scrunched up at that. “You can’t drive like this.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Just sleep here.”

Connor sighed and pulled his phone out.

“What are you doing?”

“Texting my mom. Hopefully she’ll be happier that I actually told her I’m staying out than angry that I am at all. And she’ll ask Zoe if I’m telling the truth.” He finished typing and showed Evan before pressing send. “Does this sound bitchy?”

_‘Hey. I’m at a friends’ house and it’s been a really long day and I’m too tired to drive home tonight. Zoe mostly knows what happened so you can ask her.’_

Evan didn’t know anything about Connor’s mom, but it sounded alright to him so he shrugged and nodded. Connor pressed send and put his phone down, but a few minutes later it was ringing.

He put it on speaker as soon as he answered. “Hello?”

 _“Connor?”_ she started hesitantly, and it was a bit obvious she was waiting for him to say more so she could gage whether or not he was actually tired or just high. Or possibly also convinced that whoever sent that message was not her son.

“Yep. I have you on speaker and my friend can hear you, just by the way.” It was the polite thing to do, but it also sounded sort of like a warning. Like, _don’t be mean to me, other people are listening._

_“Is this friend the ‘Evan’ Zoe mentioned?”_

“Yeah, Mom.”

_“Okay… What happened? Why are you too tired to drive? Are you okay?”_

Connor sighed and rubbed at his face. “Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just been a really long day. And Evan’s mom isn’t gonna be home until way late and I don’t want to leave him alone.” He sent Evan an apologetic look but Evan was too tired to really care. He just wanted Connor to stay.

 _“Is he okay?”_

Evan’s heart broke a little.

“He’s okay too, Mom. It’s just been a hard day.”

_“Okay, sweetie. Get some rest then. You sound like you need it.”_

Connor rolled his eyes. “Okay, Mom.”

_“And Evan? You get some sleep too. And I’d love to meet you sometime. You should join us for dinner.”_

Connor groaned and Evan managed a small laugh, if only at his friend’s expense. “Okay, Mrs. Murphy. Thank— thank you for letting Connor stay.”

There was a surprised silence on the other end of the line and Evan was about to panic before he heard her whisper to herself, _“Oh, he sounds nice,”_ and Evan turned bright red, hiding his face in his hands while Connor also seemed torn between embarrassment on his own behalf, amusement at Evan’s reaction, or mild offense at his mom’s disbelieving tone.

He settled for all three. “Alright,” he grumbled. “Goodbye, Mom. Th— thanks.” He forced the last word out.

Once again there was more stunned silence and Connor looked like he wanted the world to swallow him whole. _“Oh, that’s okay, sweetie. Thank you for telling me. Love you.”_

He shut his eyes tight and mumbled, “Love you too,” then hung up before he could embarrass himself further. He glanced over at Evan. “I think I’d rather just get my car taken away then ever go through that again.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “It was sweet.”

Connor sighed and turned so that he was facing Evan, and Evan mimicked the movement. “My dad always says she’s too easy on me and that she lets me do whatever I want.”

“She loves you.”

“She shouldn’t.” Connor had one hand under the pillow beneath his head and the other picked at the bedspread between them. “I’m a really shit son. I’ve put her through so much bullshit. I don’t deserve for her to be nice to me and I know it. And so I yell at her because I think—” He cut himself off.

“You think that’ll make it easier to leave,” Evan finished hollowly and Connor nodded, not meeting his eyes. “Yeah, I get that. Sometimes it’s easier to convince ourselves no one cares. Or that they’d all be better off without us.”

He nodded again and pulled his knees up slightly, curling in on himself. “I know they’d be better off without me. All I do at home is cause problems and everyone is always fighting and it’s always my fault.”

Evan didn’t know anything about Connor’s family. Anything he said about it would just be empty platitudes. “I wouldn’t be better off without you,” he said instead, because he could at least promise that much.

Connor didn’t really look like he believed him. Evan could practically hear all the voices in his head, listing out all the reasons that that wasn’t true. But he looked like he _wanted_ to believe him. And maybe that was enough for now.

“It’s been a long day,” he whispered, absently wondering how many times they’ve said that now. And how could a day be both so good and so bad at the same time? It was too much for him to process. Not right now, anyway. “Let’s go to sleep.”

Connor nodded and shut his eyes. And after a few more moments of convincing himself it wouldn’t all disappear if he did, Evan closed his eyes too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave comments and kudos for faster updates ;) I wanna know what you think.


	4. Plants are for everyone!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You’re like, kind of my best friend— Well, you’re my only friend, and that— that just makes you my best friend."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thursday

When Evan woke up on Thursday morning it wasn’t to the sound of his alarm or his Mom yelling his name. It was when the pillow under his head shifted.

No, not a pillow. Connor.

Evan’s eyes snapped open as he quickly ran through the last 53 hours of his life. Was this his life? It didn’t feel like it anymore.

They’d shifted in the middle of the night until Connor was on his back and Evan was half-way on top of him, one leg tucked between two of his, head pillowed on his chest, broken arm across his stomach. Connor’s hand rested lightly on Evan’s waist, pulling his shirt up slightly so that just the barest hint of skin shown above his jeans, and Connor’s pinkie rested against it.

_Not good not good not good. Don’t cuddle with your only friend, Evan. What the fuck do you think you’re doing? What is this? Why is your heart racing like that? Stop it. You’re so weird. Get out now before it’s too late and you’re all alone again!!!_

To the protest of every cell in his body that wasn’t the voice in his head, Evan carefully pried himself away from Connor and rolled out of the bed. He double and triple checked to make sure his friend was still sleeping before, as quickly and quietly as possible, he scampered out of the room.

His mom was standing in the kitchen. Oh, right. He had a mom. How did he forget that?

She was staring at the fully-stocked fridge.

_Right. That._

She turned to him slowly. “Are you gonna explain to me what is going on?” she asked, and Evan hated how accusatory that sounded. He hasn’t done anything wrong. What was she mad about, exactly? That he’d made a friend? That there was food in the house for once? Or, more probably, that he didn’t tell her about grocery shopping or Connor spending the night. But that wasn’t fair either. She’d know that if she was ever _here._

“Connor and I went shopping.”

Heidi shook her head, closing her eyes like she was annoyed, which only put Evan more on edge. “You let a kid buy us groceries?” _Now she’s positive you’re a pity friend._

Evan had a very uncharacteristic burst of anger. “Well, you’re never here so it’s probably more for me than you,” he snapped.

Heidi pulled her chin back. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Evan ground his teeth together. _It means you haven’t bothered to take care of me since I was a kid and I’ve been basically starving for years!_ He bit the inside of his cheek and recentered himself, shaking his head. “Nothing— I don’t. Nothing. Connor just likes cooking, and he doesn’t get to at home? Because his mom’s on this all vegan diet thing? And um, I told him I don’t like ordering pizza so most of the time I don’t eat and we just kind of figured it, well it works out, so—”

She held her hand up to get him to stop— another thing that he’s always hated. “You still can’t… you can’t just accept all this, honey.”

He huffed, annoyed that she thought he hadn’t tried to protest at all. “I tried to say that. He’s just. Really nice. And also has a lot of money. His dad’s a lawyer? I think. Which also explains why he’s really good at arguing. He just… he made a lot of good points? And I don’t—”

Heidi held her hand up again and Evan really really wanted to slap it back down. She seemed to realize there was nothing she could do about this now though because she moved on. “So that’s Connor’s car in the driveway?”

Evan nodded.

“And that was Connor in your bed?”

Evan flushed, praying to God that they had not been in the position he woke up in when she apparently came in and checked on them. He nodded mutely again.

“Why didn’t he go home?”

Evan sighed and rubbed his hands down his face, scrubbing at his eyes. It was way too early for this. “Yesterday was just really hard. For both of us. And we were both exhausted. So I told him to stay. Because I didn’t want him to fall asleep at the wheel and die.”

“Do his parents know—?”

“We talked to his mom.” _Bad phrasing, Hansen. Now she’s gonna—_

“But you didn’t think to call me?”

 _You’re never here!! I didn’t think it would matter!! How are you not getting this??_ Evan promptly told the voice in his head to shut up because _it was too early for this._ “I’m sorry. You’re right. We should have talked to you too. We were already half asleep when she called.”

Heidi was starting to realize that her son actually had decent reasons for all the things she was annoyed about, but that only seemed to annoy her more, which in turn was annoying Evan. She was taking out her own bullshit on him and it wasn’t fair. There were no winners here.

“Okay,” she finally sighed. “Just. Just call me next time? Or text me. Whatever. I just feel blindsided here, Evan.”

 _Fair enough._ “Okay, yeah.”

“I have to go to work.”

“Yeah.”

“I guess Connor is taking you to school?”

“I guess.”

“Okay.” She stepped forward and rested a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. It’s been a stressful week.”

Evan sidestepped out of her grip under the guise of going to the fridge. “It’s okay,” he assured her, even though it wasn’t.

“I’m glad you have a friend.”

 _Pathetic pathetic pathetic._ “Thanks… Me too.”

“And I know I’m not always here, but I’m always a phone call away. If you ever need me, or anything, I’m… I’m _here,_ Evan.”

 _You weren’t here when I tried to—_ “Yeah, I know.” His voice was too quiet but he couldn’t get it any louder. Not when his head was screaming at him.

“I love you.”

“Yeah, love you too.”

She gave him this sad smile that was just _so unfair,_ and then she left again.

Evan let out a shaky breath and leant back against the kitchen counter, putting his face in his hands and attempting to get his thoughts under control. 

Once he felt like he wasn’t buzzing anymore he went back upstairs to find Connor still passed out, though he was now on his stomach with his face buried in Evan’s pillow, arm outstretched like he’d looked for him at some point.

Evan crawled back onto the bed and kneeled beside him, nudging his shoulder. “Hey, Connor, wake up.”

His brow drew together and he turned away from Evan’s voice, hiding his face further. “Why the fuck is it so bright in here?” he grumbled into the pillow.

Evan chuckled, feeling the last remaining dregs of his anxiety start to rub away. “Skylight,” he answered blandly.

“I’m gonna board up your roof.”

“Be my guest. But you have to get up first. You told your mom you’d go home before school,” he reminded him.

Connor groaned, loud and dramatic, and turned his head out just enough to look at Evan with one eye. “Why did you let me do that?”

He scoffed. “I am not in charge of you. But I don’t think you want to go to school wearing the same clothes you wore yesterday.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Now that you mention it we do kind of smell like diner burgers and grass— and not the fun kind of grass.”

Evan tilted his head. “What’s the fun kind of grass?” _Is grass fun?_ Evan supposed some kinds of grass could be fun— _like silver grass or possibly cat grass..._

That woke Connor up as he let out a loud surprised bark of laughter and rolled onto his back. “Oh my god, Evan.”

All the grass species he knew flew from his head and were replaced with a vague memory of one of those D.A.R.E. videos they’d had to watch in elementary school. “Is it— do you mean, like— like weed?” he spoke quietly, face going red.

Connor’s laughter devolved into giggles that would be really cute if they weren’t at Evan’s expense. So Evan just huffed and crossed his arms and let him continue. “You’re delirious in the morning,” he said dryly, once Connor had mostly stopped.

He wiped at his eyes and looked around the room properly for the first time since waking up. “What time is it?”

“Uh, six?”

“Oh my god, we have plenty of time.”

“Well I don’t know where you live!”

“Ugh.” Connor groaned again as he pulled himself out of the bed. Evan watched as he used the elastic around his wrist to pull his hair up into a bun. _He should do that more often. He’s really pretty. Oh, what the heck, Hansen? What’s wrong with you?_

Connor pointed at him. “Get ready. I’ll make breakfast.”

“I don’t remember the last time I ate breakfast.”

“Yesterday. You had ice cream.”

“Oh my god, that does not count!”

“It was morning. You were eating. Therefore it was breakfast. Who says certain foods are or are not breakfast foods? In Sweden they eat fish paste in the morning.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“That’s the spirit!” Connor walked out the door and after a few seconds Evan could hear him moving around the kitchen.

He fell back into the covers. He laid there, staring up at the glow stars on his ceiling, and thought that he’d just had the best sleep of his entire life. Which was weird. Everything about this was weird. But it also felt good, and natural, and right. Like nothing about his life really made sense before, but now it might be starting to.

Sighing, Evan rolled out of the bed for the second time that morning and changed into what was essentially the same outfit again but cleaner. Nothing like sleeping in what you wore the day before to make you realize your wardrobe lacks anything resembling variety.

He traipsed back downstairs and found Connor frying eggs. “I would ask you how you like your eggs,” he said, “but there’s only one correct way, and that’s what you’re getting.” He took the pan off the stove and divided the eggs amongst two plates which already had buttered toast on them, and sliced avocado on the side.

Evan poked at the yokes when Connor handed them to him. “I didn’t know eggs came in any form other than scrambled.”

Connor closed his eyes, looking like he was questioning Evan’s entire existence _(which, same)_. “Fried over easy,” he said, “is the only acceptable form of egg.” He picked up a piece of toast and showed it to Evan in demonstration, then used it to break the yolks, getting the yellow stuff all over the bread before eating it.

Evan frowned but copied the process (if only because Connor was watching him expectantly). “Oh,” he said, once he’d taken a bite. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.”

They finished their breakfast quickly and hurried out to Connor’s car, mindful of the fact that they still needed enough time not only to get to Connor’s house so he could change, but also to make it through his family before school started.

Considering everything, Evan really shouldn’t have been surprised when they pulled up to the massive house in the most expensive part of town. But he still managed to sit in the passenger seat of Connor’s Audi and stare up at the Murphy house with his mouth hung open.

“Don’t be fooled,” Connor warned, turning off the car and putting one hand on the door handle. “It’s a dollhouse.”

“A dollhouse?”

“It’s all fake.” He got out of the car and Evan had to scramble to follow him. He tripped on a loose stone as he chased Connor up the path towards the front door.

Connor took a deep breath before opening it. Then he took Evan’s hand and dragged him through the foyer, attempting to get to the stairs before—

“Connor? Is that you?” Cynthia Murphy appeared from around the corner.

He barely glanced at her, taking the stairs two at a time and making Evan nearly fall over. “I need to change!” he called over his shoulder. Then they were down the hall and behind a bedroom door.

Evan glared at Connor as he attempted to catch his breath. “Was that really necessary?”

“Trust me, she’d have insisted you stay downstairs and talk to them while I get ready. Would you have preferred to be left alone to fend for yourself against the Murphys?”

 _No, absolutely not._ “You make it sound like a war zone.”

Connor didn’t miss a beat. “It is.” He shed his hoodie and t-shirt, dropping them unceremoniously on the floor, and went through a door which must have led to a bathroom. Evan heard a sink turn on a second later.

He took the opportunity to look around Connor’s room. A queen sized bed took up the majority of the space on a dark frame which was probably a remnant of this room’s time as a guest suite, though Connor had replaced whatever floral quilt had no doubt been their previously with a dark gray duvet that looked like it hadn’t been made up in weeks.

His desk held his computer and a bunch of empty chip bags that he’d apparently smuggled in under his mom’s dietary tyranny. He also had a mini fridge right next to it which Evan unreservedly opened to find it stocked with nothing else but coca-cola and peanut butter cups. Also on the desk was a bottle of black nail polish, drumsticks, a mason jar full of paintbrushes, and a box of copic markers. There was a cork board built into the back, and pinned to it was an old picture of him and Zoe as kids, a few random sketches done mostly on notebook paper, a number of movie tickets, and a little rainbow flag (which Evan filed away for later).

Across from the bed was an entertainment system with a flat screen TV, an Xbox, a Playstation, and a stereo that looked like it could shatter eardrums. Evan bypassed this in favor of Connor’s bookshelves, which were full to bursting. He was running a finger along the spines when Connor re-emerged from the bathroom which must also connect to his closet, as he was in fresh clothes.

“Surprised?” he asked, and Evan jumped.

“By— by your room?” he clarified, and Connor nodded with a shrug. “No. It’s… you.”

Connor’s eyes landed on his unmade bed and old food wrappers and scattered laundry. “A mess?”

“Ha-ha,” Evan rolled his eyes. “No. I just mean, I don't know. It makes sense.”

“You weren’t expecting death metal and bongs and a knife collection?” It was supposed to be a joke but the rhythm was off.

Evan’s features softened. “Not at all.”

His shoulders relaxed minutely and Evan was glad he could help ease the tension just a little. It was odd that Connor seemed so much more comfortable at Evan’s house than in his own room. He let out a long breath, looking towards the door that held back his family. “I guess we should get this over with.”

They headed back downstairs and Connor led Evan through to the dining room where the Murphys were eating breakfast. It looked like a picture out of a magazine— complete with a pitcher of orange juice and a bowl of apples. Larry Murphy was even seated at the head of the table with a newspaper open in front of him. If the whole house wasn’t enough, Evan definitely felt out of place here. People actually had family breakfasts? That wasn't just something that only happened in nuclear sitcoms?

“Ah, you must be Evan,” Larry said, putting his paper down. “I’d say we’ve heard so much about you, but…” he shot a glance towards Connor who instantly tensed, “that would be a lie.”

“It’s n-nice to, um, meet you, Mr. Murphy.” Evan bit down on the inside of his cheek and dug his short nails into his palm, if only to keep from yanking on his shirt. “S-sorry, I, uh,” _what was he apologizing for?_ “... kept Connor last night.”

“Oh, that’s alright!” Cynthia chirped brightly. “We’re just so glad to know Connor has a friend!” True to her nuclear housewife form, she wasn’t sitting down, just sort of hovering around the table— which was definitely contributing to Evan’s anxiety. What was she waiting for? Did she ever relax?

Speaking of not being relaxed… Connor’s shoulders were up to his ears. Evan wanted to reach out to him but he felt sort of frozen under the gazes of the other Murphys. _Would that even be welcome right now?_ Evan was in uncharted waters and he’d never been a good swimmer. Probably because of the asthma. Wait, was he breathing? _Breathe, you idiot!_ Evan attempted to make his lungs work as surreptitiously as possible and ended up coughing.

“Yeah, so, we’re gonna go,” Connor said tightly. “Zoe, are you ready yet?”

She glared at him over her cereal bowl. “No. Can you chill for like a second?”

His fists clenched. “Hurry up, I don’t feel like waiting around on you.”

Her expression darkened. “It won’t kill you to be home for ten fucking minutes.”

Connor’s hand shot up to his hair, yanking on it enough to hurt. “Jesus Christ, the world doesn’t fucking revolve around you, Zoe!”

“Connor, language!” Cynthia chastised, and Connor’s eyes widened. He started to make an angry gesture towards Zoe but apparently decided it was useless. His fists clenched back down at his sides and his knuckles were turning white.

“Don’t curse at your sister, Connor,” Larry added.

Without really thinking about it, Evan grabbed the back of Connor’s hoodie before he could shout, pulling it back slightly to ground Connor back into some semblance reality. He watched his fists uncurl and his shoulders drop— not completely, but the pressure relaxed just enough to keep him from exploding.

Evan glanced back to the Murphys to see all three of them staring at Evan now. Cynthia seemed to be in awe, Larry just looked confused, and Zoe’s expression was unreadable— a mixture of a whole lot of things, probably. Evan slowly released his hold on Connor, but he edged slightly closer to him so that their arms brushed against one another.

He cleared his throat. “I, uh, actually, do have to get to school early today?” That was a lie, but he desperately wanted to cover for Connor in any way he could, and more than anything he wanted to get them both out of there. “It’s a um… apples— I mean, uh, botany class thing? S-sorry.”

Zoe still looked annoyed amongst whatever else the face she was pulling was meant to reflect, but she seemed to realize she couldn’t snap at Evan. She didn’t really know Evan, after all. “Fine,” she muttered as she got up, leaving her mostly finished cereal bowl for Cynthia to quickly pick up and take to the kitchen as Zoe ran upstairs.

“Botany?” Larry questioned once he was the only other Murphy left in the room.

Evan nodded a lot more than the situation warranted. “Uh, um, yes. It’s my fourth year in— in the class. I, well, my teacher, he got me a job as a junior park ranger at Ellison this past summer? So I’m kind of, well, not to brag or anything, but I’m kind of a tree expert now.” It was meant to be a joke, but Evan was bad at telling jokes that weren’t deadpan, so it just sounded weird and awkward. He turned bright red.

Larry chuckled kindly anyway, which was nice of him, really. 

“Evan gardens,” Connor piped in, seeming to realize that Evan was about to ramble into an unnecessary explanation for how weird he was.

“Really?” His dad looked genuinely interested, which was so outside of Evan’s understanding his brain was about to explode. “You a science guy?”

He shrugged. “Um, environmental science, mostly. I want— that’s what I want to study. But I don’t— I don’t actually know what I’d do with that.”

Larry brightened considerably. “I was an environmental science major. You can do what I did: go to law school and start arguing with the idiots trying to destroy this planet.”

Evan blinked in surprise. Why did he think Larry Murphy was a corporate lawyer? “O-oh, I’m not good with, uh, words— speaking.” _Clearly._

Cynthia spoke up from the doorway and Evan jumped, wondering when she got there. “I’d bet you’d be surprised what you can do when you really believe in something! Isn’t that right, Larry?”

“You just have to be willing to put the work in,” he agreed with a nod, and Connor scoffed in the tone of someone who had heard those words in a different context.

Thankfully, Zoe reappeared with her bag. “Let’s go then,” she said, arms crossed.

“S-sorry,” Evan felt the need to apologize. Zoe seemed really mad about having to leave and that was technically his fault. She just glanced at him with an air of indifference.

“C’mon,” Connor nudged Evan towards the exit.

“It was lovely to meet you, Evan,” Cynthia said with a wave, and Evan barely managed to reciprocate the pleasantry before Connor was hauling him out of there, Zoe trailing along behind them.

“Well that could have gone worse, I guess,” Connor said once they were in the car and Zoe was still making her way down the front steps.

“You handled it well,” Evan said quietly. “I noticed. You did good. It was unfair of your parents to correct you and not Zoe.”

“It’s like they only ever notice when I fuck up and she can do no wrong.”

 _It’s because they’re worried about you and not her,_ Evan didn’t say, because Zoe was getting in the backseat now. Connor looked tense again so Evan tapped his knees, searching for something to say to make it okay. He rattled his brain of every conversation they ever had but didn’t get very far before his mouth was moving on its own accord. “We forgot to pack lunches,” he said blandly.

But a smirk tugged at Connor’s lips. “All that food…”

“And we’ll be eating cafeteria lunch,” Evan finished, chuckling incredulously.

“We’re so dumb.”

“Useless, completely.”

They both laughed and finally the last remaining bits of unease melted away as Connor pulled onto the main road headed towards school. Evan didn’t really want to talk more with Zoe in the car though, so he leaned forward and turned up the radio.

It was on the alternative rock station and Evan was sort of absently mumbling the lyrics to himself as he let his mind wander to other things, but he was sucked back into the car when Green Day’s “Basket Case” came on and he couldn’t help but snort.

Connor cracked a smile too, glancing over at Evan teasingly. “They’re playing our song, Ev.”

 _Ev._ He beamed up at Connor. He probably looked like a complete idiot but there was just no helping that anymore. “Turn it up,” he said, and Connor did— so loud that it drowned out all the other thoughts in their heads.

Evan stopped mumbling the lyrics and began wholeheartedly belting along with the song. He nudged Connor’s arm on the third verse, posing the song’s question towards him, and Connor rolled his eyes but joined along anyway. 

The bass was so strong that the car was shaking. The view outside the windows was distorted by sound waves and their seats pumped along with the beat and the road, making them feel the chords and the world deep in their bones.

When the song ended their throats hurt but they were laughing anyway, and they got to school with smiles on their faces for the first time in years.

Then Evan glanced behind him and remembered Zoe’s presence. She was staring at him like he was some sort of space alien, eyes flickering between him and her brother incredulously. Evan turned back around quickly and tried to catch his breath.

_That was weird. You’re so fucking weird, Evan. Why did you do that? She probably thinks you’re some kind of stoner now. She’s gonna tell her parents you’re a bad influence on Connor because you’re too fucking gross and weird and creepy and—_

“Zoe, get out of my car,” Connor ordered.

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to be in your stupid car, anyway.” And then she grabbed her bag and slammed the door shut behind her.

Connor instantly turned to him. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just— I forgot—” Evan groaned at himself and buried his face in his hands. “Your sister probably thinks I’m crazy. She was looking at me like I’m crazy.”

“Well, first off, who gives a shit what she thinks?” Connor started, and Evan just glanced up at him. “Also, and I hate to be the one to tell you this, she was gonna think that you’re crazy no matter what, dude. She can’t fathom someone actually wanting to be around me.”

His expression darkened again so Evan tried to smile. “ _Dude,_ ” he echoed.

It worked; Connor smirked. “Do you have something against ‘dude,’ Evan Hansen?”

“No, not at all,” Evan was trying to hide his amusement. “It’s just very teenage-boy.”

“Well I guess I can’t speak for you because I haven’t checked, but I, for one, am a teenage boy.”

Evan processed that quickly and let out a little surprised laugh as his face turned red. “ _Dude,_ ” he managed to get out, making Connor laugh as well.

“C’mon let’s get this day over with,” Connor said, taking his key and opening the door.

“That’s the spirit.” Evan followed Connor out of the car and accepted his book bag from him when they got to the back. “This morning can’t be as bad as yesterday.”

“Don’t jinx it.” Connor shouldered his bag and nudged Evan forward towards the school doors.

Evan still had his morning classes’ books since he never actually made it to the afternoon yesterday, but they stopped beside his locker anyway for lack of anywhere else to go. Evan leaned back against the metal and looked up at Connor as he stood over him. “Is your sister gonna wonder why I’m not in the botany classroom?”

He shook his head. “She’s probably in the band room by now… Thanks for that, by the way. You didn’t have to lie for me.”

Evan shrugged. “I could tell you wanted to get out of there… and it wasn’t completely selfless.”

“My dad was impressed by you though. He probably thinks you’re gonna save me now.”

Evan chose to ignore the second part of that. He didn’t know what to do with that. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me your dad’s an environmental attorney.”

“It messes with the image I have of him.”

Evan hummed and reached up to fix Connor’s hoodie strings because, well, they were really close to his face right now and they weren’t _even._ In all honesty, it’s been something he’s wanted to do since Connor started wearing this hoodie in sophomore year. “My dad’s an insurance investigator,” he replied absently, focusing most of his attention on getting the strings perfect. “His job is to make sure poor people go bankrupt by medical bills so that billion dollar companies don’t have to pay out.”

“The more you tell me about your father the more I want to drive to Colorado and punch him in the face.” Connor was watching Evan’s hands too, and for once that knowledge didn’t make them sweaty. 

Evan snorted. “Be my guest.” The strings were even now but he was still holding onto them. 

“Ev,” Connor said quietly, and Evan’s eyes flickered up to meet his, realizing for the first time how close they were standing. His breath caught in his throat and his fingers tightened around the strings.

“Hey! Evan!” Jared’s voice came from down the hall, and Evan dropped the strings like they’d burned him as he jumped, head snapping around to see his family friend headed towards them.

Connor grumbled something Evan couldn’t make out, taking a smell step back before falling sideways against the lockers next to him. “I will punch him this time if he’s an asshole.”

“Jared’s always like that,” Evan mumbled.

“That sucks for his face then.”

Evan couldn’t help but laugh at that just as Jared reached them.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

Connor answered before Evan could. “None of your business, Kleinman.”

Jared glared at him and turned on Evan. “Damn, Hansen, I didn’t know you hired your own personal guard dog.”

Evan turned so that he was facing Jared with Connor behind him. “He’s not— why would you— that’s— that’s _rude,_ Jared.” It didn’t come out nearly as strong as he meant for it to. He desperately wished that for once he could just _speak like a normal human being._ He just wanted Jared to go away before he ruined everything again. They actually needed to go to class today.

Jared snorted unkindly. “Where did you even _go_ yesterday? People were saying he kidnapped you.”

Evan closed his eyes and he felt Connor tense behind him. Evan rocked back on his heels so that he pressed into him just slightly, just enough so that they could both use each other to calm down.

“We just left,” Evan said, making an aborted gesture with his hand. “And— and people— just— just need— just need to— to _shut up._ ” He slammed his eyes closed again, trying to block out Jared’s face.

“Who are you and what have you done to Evan Hansen?” Jared crossed his arms, widening his stance. “Because the Evan I know wouldn’t just skip school. And he definitely wouldn’t go anywhere with Connor Fucking Murphy.”

Evan mumbled under his breath and Jared leaned forward. 

“What was that?”

“I said you _don’t_ know me,” Evan snapped, finally managing to make eye contact. “You— you don’t care? About me? So why— why are you suddenly acting like you do? We aren’t— we aren’t _friends,_ Jared.” He was only repeating what Jared had told him a million times (two days ago, in fact), but it still stung because _they used to be friends. He used to care. He used to care but he doesn’t anymore because you’re weird and annoying and everyone leaves you—_

Jared pulled his chin back, clearly offended. “Fuck you, Evan,” he bit out, “Asshole.” And then he turned on his heel and stormed down the hall, disappearing around a corner.

Evan let out a shaky breath and he felt Connor’s hand land on his shoulder. “Hey,” he started quietly, “are you okay?”

Evan turned around, lip jutting out slightly as his eyes filled with tears, and then he was flinging his arms around Connor’s shoulders and burying his face in his hoodie.

“Oh shit, okay.” Connor’s arms went around Evan’s waist, holding him tightly. “Not okay.”

He hated that he was crying. He hated that he cried at every little stupid thing that happened. He hated that he just yelled at someone. He hated that he got yelled at. He hated that he was standing in this stupid hallway crying in Connor’s arms again because of stupid _Jared._ God, he hated himself so much. _Stupid. Pathetic pathetic pathetic—_

“Do you wanna leave?” Connor whispered.

Evan shook his head. He took a few deep breaths before pulling back, landing on his heels and wiping at his eyes. He stared at the damp patch on Connor’s shoulder instead of at his face. The strings had gotten uneven again and Evan’s hands went back up to fix them. “I’m— I don’t want to leave.”

Connor’s hands were on his hips and he squeezed them lightly. “You sure?”

He nodded, finishing with the strings but just sort of keeping his hands on his chest anyway. For someone who had been basically touch-starved for his entire life, it was odd how much comfort he found in Connor’s physical presence. But maybe that was the point. “Yes,” he said determinedly.

Connor didn’t question it. He didn’t tell Evan he was wrong, or that he couldn’t do it. Instead he just nodded, trusting him. “Okay. Let me know if that changes.”

“I will.”

“Good.”

The hall was starting to fill with other students now. Connor’s hands dropped from his sides and he shoved them in his pockets, so Evan dropped his as well.

“You have calc first, right?” Connor asked and Evan nodded. “Good, me too. C’mon.”

The bell rang on their way there, so there were already a few students in the classroom by the time they entered— including Jared, who glared at Evan until he shrunk behind Connor. Connor just glared right back at him before guiding Evan to the back. 

The desks in all the AP math classes were set up in pairs, as they were expected to work together to get all the work finished before the period ended. This was usually a reason Evan dreaded math class (despite liking math), but this time he found himself thankful for it as Connor sat next to him.

The teacher turned around from where she was writing on the board and her eyes found Connor immediately. “Mr. Murphy, nice of you to finally join us.”

“Nice to see you too, Mrs. Cartwright,” Connor replied mildly. It was very clearly sarcastic, but Mrs. Cartwright didn’t seem bothered by it. In fact she looked rather amused as she hummed with a small smile and went back to the papers on her desk.

“Have you had her before?” Evan whispered.

Connor shrugged. “She was my tutor when… uh, freshman year.” He cleared his throat awkwardly and Evan nodded to let him know he got it and that he didn’t have to say it out loud. “I was sort of a bitch to her, but she just… wouldn’t give up on me. It was… uh, well it was really annoying at first, but…”

“It’s nice,” Evan finished for him.

“Yeah… Anyway, when I finally got back to school I just sort of… kept coming here. For schoolwork mostly because I was still really behind, but also just. I don’t know. I knew it was safe here because she knew about all of it and… uh, cared.”

“She said… were you not here on Monday?” That didn’t make any sense. Evan had seen Connor that morning. Connor had— _Oh._

Connor flushed slightly which Evan found confusing. “I was. Technically. Hiding in the back room.” He motioned towards a door which Evan had always assumed was a closet.

“Right.” Evan stared down at the table.

“I was mad at myself.”

Evan looked back up, squinting at his friend.

“It was stupid of me to push you. I was having a bad morning and I— You have a freaking _broken arm_ and I just— I’m the worst. I’m sorry.”

“You’re not,” Evan answered automatically. “I mean, thank you, for apologizing, but you’re not the worst. It was just a bad morning. I didn’t take it personally. I think— Your sister actually came up to me after? And it really annoyed me. I think that bothered me more than getting pushed, actually? I’m used to getting pushed.”

Connor’s brow furrowed. “It annoyed you?”

“Yeah, she just, she apologized for you and said… I don’t remember exactly what she said but I just remember it really annoying me. I think I just told her it was fine and ran off.” Evan squinted over Connor’s shoulder, trying to remember. He had already been anxious because of Jared’s comments and getting pushed, which meant the memory of that morning was all mostly a blur. He’d been trying to escape when Zoe had stopped him and therefore he didn’t pay her much attention, but he definitely remembered being annoyed. “That was probably rude. She probably hates me.”

Connor sighed. “She doesn’t hate you, Evan. She doesn’t know you.”

“Right.”

“You can’t hate someone you don’t know.”

Now, if Evan could just get that through his head, walking down the hall would be a lot easier. “Right, yeah.”

The second bell rang and Mrs. Cartwright started class. They both dutifully took notes through the lecture, and at one point Evan mumbled a question to Connor and he raised his hand to ask it for him, which was nice. It meant Evan didn’t have to go home and hopelessly flip through his textbook or scan through Google search results, trying to make it make sense.

She handed out the homework when there was still thirty minutes left of class and they were left to try and finish what they could before the bell. For once the both of them actually had help. They finished all the problems with two minutes to spare.

“My brain is fried,” Evan said, laying his head against the desk. “No more numbers, please.”

Connor laughed and shoved the paper into his bag— a move which made Evan nervous because _why didn’t he put it in a folder? It was due tomorrow, what if he lost it? Or it got crumbled amongst all the other papers in his bag and Mrs. Cartwright got angry because—_

“History next, right? Do dates count as numbers?”

“Dates definitely count as numbers. I can’t even remember my own birthday, much less Abraham Lincoln’s.”

“Well it’s European history so I don’t think we’ll have to worry about Lincoln.”

“No, I’ll just have to keep fifteen Louies straight.” Evan sighed, blinking up at him as Connor leaned back in his chair and spun his pencil deftly between his polished fingers. His other hand rested against his abdomen, moving up and down with his diaphragm, and Evan found himself entranced between the steady, contrasting rhythms.

The bell rang and Evan shook himself, realizing that he’d been openly staring at his friend for the last minute and a half. _You’re so creepy. Everyone saw. Everyone knows._

Connor stood up and Evan quickly followed. They nearly made it to the door before Mrs. Cartwright called out: “Not so fast, boys!” They were the last ones left so it could only be them. They turned slowly to find her holding out more homework. “Your missed work from yesterday,” she said pointedly. “Be grateful I’m giving you a chance to make it up.”

Connor took both papers because he could feel Evan shaking beside him. “Gee, thanks,” he said dully, and Evan definitely would have passed out if Connor hadn’t told him that he already knew this teacher. So instead he just turned bright red and ducked his head.

Mrs. Cartwright rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh,” she replied in much the same tone. “Now get to class.” She waved them away and they promptly scurried.

Connor handed over the paper when they got into the hall and Evan pouted as he took it. “So much for not having math homework.”

“To be fair we did zero schoolwork yesterday.” Connor shoved it into his bag along with all the rest of his loose papers. Evan distantly wondered if he could convince Connor to let him organize it. He was about to bring it up when they arrived in the history classroom and the bell rang just as they were taking the last seats left in the back.

AP history classes were always the exact same: an hour of listening to the teacher talk while furiously taking notes until your hand cramped up. 

At the end of class, Evan resorted to taking a picture of the assigned readings written on the board, thinking that if he wrote one more word he might never play piano again.

Connor had taken significantly less notes than Evan and when Evan questioned this he just shrugged. “I’m an auditory learner and also super ADHD so if I try to take too many notes I get lost. It’s easier to focus on listening and just writing down the broad stuff.”

Evan flexed his fingers mournfully as they walked down the hall. “I’m gonna be in two casts by the end of the week.”

“More for me to sign.”

Evan rolled his eyes, looking down to where Connor’s name was still boldly stamped across his arm. “You might as well have written ‘property of’ above it.”

“I’ll add that later,” he quipped, turning so that he was walking backwards. Evan’s gaze instantly shifted so that he could worry over whether he was going to knock into someone. “I’ve got French next,” he said.

“You’re taking French?”

“ _Oui._ ”

“Impressive,” Evan sassed.

Connor raised a brow. “ _Je l'ai pris pour pouvoir lire plus de littérature française. Et regardez leurs films. Ils sont meilleurs avant la traduction._ ”

Evan blinked up at him, wondering what the twisting feeling in his chest was. It wasn’t anxiety. Anxiety didn’t feel this warm. “Wow,” he managed. “I’m only in Spanish II and I barely know how to introduce myself.” They stopped outside the class in question, a little Mexican flag hanging in the door’s window.

Connor smirked, “ _Rendez-vous au déjeuner, la mignonne._ ” Then he gave a little wave and continued on down the hall.

“I don’t know what that means!” Evan called after him, and he could hear Connor’s laugh from down the hall.

He got a text from him just before the tardy bell rang.

 **Connor:** _meet at your locker for lunch?_

 **Evan:** _Is that what you said?_

 **Connor:** _essentially_

 **Evan:** _Sounds fake but okay._

 **Connor:** _sassy_

 **Connor:** _i have home ec next. i’ll see if i can’t save us from the cafeteria food._

 **Evan:** _You’re sweet._

 **Connor:** _i take it back. i'm only making myself lunch._

 **Evan:** _Wait!_

 **Evan:** _I take it back!_

 **Evan:** _You’re not sweet._

 **Evan:** _You’re bitter._

 **Connor:** _lol is that supposed to be better?_

 **Evan:** _I don’t know!_

 **Evan:** _What do you want from me, Connor Murphy?_

 **Connor:** _lolll_

“Señor Hansen, guarda tu teléfono!” Señora Reyes snapped, and Evan turned bright red as he shoved his phone in his pocket. He caught Jared’s angry glare from the other side of the classroom and quickly ducked his head, not looking up for the remainder of the period.

After Spanish he had piano and Zoe Murphy caught him right before he could get to the music room.

“Hey, Evan, can I talk to you?”

Evan looked around for an excuse but came up dreadfully empty. “Um, yeah, I guess?”

Zoe pulled at her hair as she talked. “I just wanted to say thank you. I… I haven’t seen my brother that happy in a long time.”

“O-Oh, uh…” Evan had no idea how to respond to this. “Uh, that’s great, I guess. But you— you don’t have to thank me? I’m not— like it’s not— I’m not like being charitable or— or whatever. He’s my friend.”

“I’m thanking you for me.”

“What?”

“I’ve missed that Connor. And even if he’s not that way around me I’m glad he is with someone.”

“O-oh that’s—” He didn’t know what that was. On the one hand it sounded selfless, but on the other she was still thanking Evan, and that made him uncomfortable. Like Connor was some kind of mess he’d cleaned up. “Well, um, maybe— maybe it would help if— if you were nicer to him? I— I know he’s been awful to you too, but it just— it doesn’t help? Picking fights? And he— he cares about you a lot, so.”

A range of emotions flickered across Zoe’s face and Evan attempted to keep up but eventually got lost. “He does?” she asked, tone bordering on hopeful:

“O-oh, yeah— yes. He, um, mentions you a lot. Like, stories from— from when you were kids? Yeah. And there’s— there’s a picture of you two— in-in his room.” Evan wiped his hands on his pants. Was this wrong? Should he not be saying all this? She just looked so desperate to believe that, he couldn’t not tell her the truth. “Don’t— um, don’t tell him I told you— uh, all this.”

She shook her head, smiling softly. “No, of course not.”

“Okay— okay, good. Um, I actually need to—” He gestured over her shoulder to the door she was blocking him from.

“Oh, right.” She stepped aside and he quickly went past her before anything more could be said. He felt all gross and sweaty now.

He sat down at his piano bench and nearly jumped out of his skin when Matt Holtzer came crashing into him on a rolling chair.

“Dude, were you just talking to Zoe Murphy?” he demanded.

“Uh, yes?” Evan squeaked.

“Dude, she’s so hot. Have you seen her instagram?” Evan shook his head but Matt wasn’t waiting for his answer anyway. “She’s got like thirty photos from their trip to Hawaii this past summer? Dude, she has this red bikini… Really gets the blood flowing if you know what I mean.”

 _That explains Jared’s comments, at least._ Evan couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose at the images Matt was painting. He wanted to say ‘that’s really gross and problematic please fuck off’ but because he was _the worst_ he just shrugged silently. Which at least had the desired effect of making Matt realize he wasn’t going to engage. He rolled away to go bother someone else and Evan pulled out his phone to text Connor.

 **Evan:** _You’re not allowed to call me dude ever again._

 **Connor:** _???_

 **Evan:** _Matt Holtzer._

 **Connor:** _gross._

 **Connor:** _what can i call you then?_

 **Evan:** _“Evan.”_

 **Connor:** _Sassy_

 **Evan:** _Not that either._

 **Connor:** _not my fault you’re sassy, ev._

 **Evan:** _Ev is also okay._

 **Evan:** _Good._

 **Evan:** _Great._

 **Evan:** _Shutting up now._

 **Connor:** _okay, ev_

Evan blushed and put his phone away, focusing instead on the sheet music in front of him. He thankfully got through the class with no more interruptions from Matt (or anyone), and when he finally got out into the hall he found Connor already standing next to his locker.

He looked uncomfortable, back pressed against the metal as he held cellophane-wrapped plates, stacked on top of each other and close to his chest to keep anyone from bumping into them. He kept switching between staring intently at his feet and glancing around, looking mildly paranoid, and glaring at anyone who was unfortunate enough to accidentally catch his eye.

Until he caught Evan’s eye, that is. Then he brightened up considerably and gave him this really soft smile. And Evan kind of wanted to— _Whoa. No. No, not that. Nope. That was creepy. Stop being so freaking creepy, Hansen. He’s gonna find out. He’s gonna hate you and he’s gonna leave you just like everyone else—_

“I made sandwiches,” Connor said, and Evan realized his feet had moved on their own accord until he was standing right next to him.

“That’s—”

“If you say ‘sweet’ I swear to god.”

Evan pressed his lips together, hiding his amusement. Instead of finishing that sentence, he gently nudged Connor out of the way of his locker so he could exchange his books.

He was acutely aware of Connor following his every move, and Evan felt compelled to fill the silence— especially while they kept getting weird glances from all the people in the hallway. Too many of them looked worried which was just frustrating on so many levels. “Uh, h-how was French?”

“ _J'ai réalisé que je peux vous dire tout ce que je veux maintenant et vous ne le saurez pas._ ”

Evan’s heart did some more irregular backflips though he didn’t know if it was from anxiety of being spoken to and not knowing what was said or… something else. “A-are you gonna keep doing that?”

“ _Presque certainement._ ”

“That sounds like a yes.”

“ _Tu es vraiment mignon quand tu es frustré,_ ” Connor laughed brightly and Evan turned red even though he couldn’t be sure why. 

“At least promise me you aren’t like… m-making fun of me, or whatever.” He was almost positive he wasn’t, but the voice in the back of his head couldn’t be silenced when he didn’t _know._

Connor immediately sobered, switching back to English. “I wouldn’t do that.” His voice was strange, like his head couldn’t decide between being paranoid and needing to reassure Evan. The two things did not work together.

Evan let out a breath. “Okay, yeah, no, I know, obviously, like, that wouldn’t make sense. Cos you’re like, really nice to me, for some reason, even though I’m like really weird. But that’s why I keep— uh, I keep thinking you’re, um, gonna realize that? And— and leave. But why wouldn’t you just leave? You— you wouldn’t just stick around and say things in French. That would. That would not be— uh, be you.”

“I’ll stop speaking French.”

“No!” Evan surprised both himself and Connor. He cleared his throat. “I— I mean— I don’t mind.”

His eyes narrowed, which was fair because Evan had a tendency to say he didn’t mind things even though he really did. “It kind of seems like you do, Ev.”

Evan bit the inside of his cheek. His brain was at war with itself. On one hand, it was anxiety fodder to have a bunch of incoherent sentences said to him (he’s actually had recurring nightmares of the exact scenario). But on the other hand, Connor speaking French was….

It was _something._

“I— I trust you. I just don’t, uh, trust myself. So— I mean, c-could you tell me? What you say?”

Connor’s features softened and Evan was glad he managed to word that correctly even if it was still stutter-y _and gross and pathetic—_ “Sure, Ev.”

“Th-thanks.”

“ _Aucun problème_ — that’s ‘no problem.’”

Evan chuckled. “Yeah, yeah I figured.”

“Hey guys!” They both turned at the new voice (Evan jumped) and found Connor’s sister standing in front of them, bouncing slightly on her toes.

“Um,” Evan managed.

“What do you—” Connor cut himself off as Evan tapped his hip. He corrected his tone, “What’s up?” It didn’t sound at all natural, but it was better than snapping.

Zoe flickered slightly, like she didn’t know which attitude to take herself. She eventually settled back into the strange cheeriness she approached them with. “I was just…” she shifted from one foot to the other, looking to the side for a second before quickly coming back to them. “Um, I was just wondering if— if you’re coming home tonight?” She’d gradually moved her eyes to her brother as she spoke, like she wasn’t sure where the sentence was going until it was finished. “Because… cause if you’re not I can, like, tell mom and dad you’re not… y’know…” She started to cross her arms but aborted the gesture, her hands swinging lightly at her sides instead.

Connor stared her down with an unreadable expression. Evan’s eyes bounced between the two siblings. Connor looked like he was fighting a war with himself on top of just being utterly confused _(which, relatable)._ But Zoe… Zoe kept looking around them, occasionally making eye contact with random passersby and just keeping this small smile plastered to her face. It didn’t quite reach her eyes, but she was clearly making a concentrated effort to look as comfortable as possible.

Evan followed her gaze around the hall and realized more than a few people were watching these proceedings, like they were waiting for something bad to happen.

_Right, people thought Connor was bullying you. Zoe only came over to get those people to shut up. But now they think she’s come over to save you and they’re waiting for Connor to explode— for another Murphy Sibling Smackdown to add to the list._

Evan gently reached out and settled his hand on the small of Connor’s back, hoping to reassure him before his head could tell him that Zoe was being a bitch. Or if he’s noticed all the people watching them, Evan wanted to remind him that he had someone on his side this time.

Zoe’s face had slowly morphed into pleading, trying to communicate to her brother what she was doing without actually saying it out loud for the group of girls near them to hear.

It probably only took about fifteen seconds but it felt like fifteen years to Evan. “I don’t know,” Connor finally managed, and Evan remembered to breathe. “Do you want a ride home?”

Zoe nodded quickly, her pseudo-relaxed posture finally settling into something more real. Evan thought maybe she remembered to breathe too. “Yes— yeah, definitely.”

“Okay,” Connor said.

“Okay,” Zoe repeated.

The bell rang before Evan could feel compelled to say something too. Probably something stupid about how similar they looked.

Zoe took a step back. “See you later.” She gave a small wave to both of them, which Evan mimicked because he didn’t know what else to do with his hands and he was afraid he still might say something if he didn’t. Then she turned on her heel and fell into the crowd of students headed towards the cafeteria.

Connor watched her go until the hall was empty save for the two of them. “That was weird,” he said.

Evan wondered if Connor knew what she was doing or if he should explain. “She came up to me before fourth too.”

He tensed, snapping around to look at him. “What? Why?”

His hoodie strings were uneven again. Evan frowned and reached up to fix them, waiting until Connor unwound himself before answering carefully. “I don’t really know. She just said she’s glad we’re friends.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

Connor processed that for a while and Evan was just content to watch the emotions flit across his face until he settled on a smirk, looking down at Evan. “Did she annoy you this time?”

That surprised a laugh out of him. “Honestly? A little.” Evan shrugged. “I didn’t get why she was there, and she was blocking my way to class.”

Connor laughed and threw an arm over Evan’s shoulder, starting them walking towards the courtyard. “Honestly? I’m glad you’re not one of the 300 males at this school drooling over my sister.”

Evan scrunched up his face, remembering the conversation (if one could call it that) with Matt Holtzer. Probably about 80% of their school’s male demographic had their sexual awakenings as a result of Zoe Murphy. Which really had to suck for her, honestly. No one should ever be involuntarily subjected to the male gaze. Especially not at 13 years old. Even if it was technically other 13 year olds. Boys were just gross.

Jared always made fun of Evan for being uncomfortable anytime he brought up sex and girls, and for a while Evan did think that maybe there was something wrong with him. But he eventually decided he was glad he wasn’t one of the guys making it harder for the girls to just _exist._ He knew what it felt like to be constantly aware of how you look and that other people could and were looking at you and passing judgement and just… being perceived. Being perceived sucked. Maybe that’s why he’s never had a crush on anyone. Relationships require perception on like whole other levels.

Evan could agree that girls were undeniably beautiful, but he just _didn’t get_ the rest of it _._ But he didn’t get most things, anyway. So this probably wasn’t any different from everything else, right? It’s just an anxiety thing. Or… well, a side effect of his medicine is lowered libido, and he’s been on those since middle school. That’s all this was. Problem solved. _Right?_

“Hey,” Connor took his hand off Evan’s shoulder in order to wave it in front of his face, making Evan blink back to the present outside of the APES classroom. “Where’d you go?”

Evan wasn’t completely sure. “Sorry, that reminded me of what Matt Holtzer said.” He led them into the room and towards the back.

Connor tilted his head as he followed him. “What did he say?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know.” Evan pushed the door open and sat down heavily at the picnic table. “I wish I didn’t know.”

Connor sat down beside him, putting the plates in front of them, and Evan realized for the first time that he’d also provided them with chips and sliced apples and grapes. He looked over to him to make some comment about Connor being motherly, but the words got stuck in his throat.

Because Connor had his head tilted up just slightly and his hair was still pulled back in the bun from this morning and Evan could see his jawline properly for the first time in the sunlight— the sunlight that was bouncing off his blue eyes and high cheekbones and _freckles._ Connor Murphy has freckles and… and dimples. Connor Murphy has bone structure that could _break glass_ and also fucking _dimples._

What was that phrase? An enigma wrapped in a… something? Yeah. That one. That was written about Connor Murphy.

“You’re staring at me,” Connor said, and Evan blinked, turning red at being caught. He pulled his eyes away from Connor’s face and landed on the tense lines of his shoulders, leading down to curled fists.

_Stupid stupid stupid._

“Sorry!” Evan apologized immediately, his brain demanding that he _fix it— fix it before he leaves!! He’s gonna leave you!!_ “I wasn’t… You’re just…”

“I’m just what?” Connor’s eyes flashed.

And then Evan got mad. Really, really irrationally _pissed off._ At himself. For being so fucking creepy and staring at his friend and making him uncomfortable and making him _doubt._ Doubt that Evan was genuine. Doubt that he was— “You’re just really pretty!” he shouted suddenly, words coming out in a jumble.

Evan’s eyes widened and he clapped a hand over his mouth. Connor just stared down at him.

“Sorry. Sorry. I’m so sorry. I did not— I did not mean— I mean, I did. You are. Really pretty. Like, unfairly pretty. It’s really distracting actually? Which isn’t great for me because I get distracted easily, y’know and… I’m sorry. You. You do not need to know any of this. I didn’t mean to _say_ that even though I did _mean_ it. That’s— that’s why I was staring. You just. It took me off guard. Your face. Your face surprised me. Even though I _know_ what you look like, obviously. That’s— that’s obvious. But you’re wearing your hair up and it’s _different._ And I get distracted by things when they’re different. Not! Not like a bad different! I don’t mean it’s bad that your hair is up! I— I like it! Not! Not that what I think matters. Obviously. You should do whatever you want with your hair. It’s really great hair. I mean— what Jared said on Monday? That was stupid. You shouldn’t cut your hair. Not that I think you would ever listen to Jared. Cos you’re like, way smarter than that. You’re really smart _and_ pretty and oh my god will you please shut me up already? I’m so s—”

Connor hand jutted out and landed on Evan’s shoulder, effectively silencing him. “If you say ‘sorry’ one more time, Ev, I will never recycle ever again.”

Evan’s face involuntarily scrunched up and all other thoughts about how much he hated himself disappeared at just— just the very _idea._ “That’s— that doesn’t— No, that doesn’t make any _sense._ You can’t— you can’t just _not recycle_ because I said ‘sorry.’ That’s completely unfair.”

“Sucks,” Connor shrugged, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth in a way that was so _distracting._ “Cos that’s how it’s gonna go.”

Evan crossed his arms. “That’s completely irresponsible.”

“Guess you better stop apologizing for nothing, then.”

_It wasn’t nothing. I made you uncomfortable. Because I’m so creepy and gross and messed up—_

“God, I can practically hear you yelling at yourself.” Connor rolled his eyes and moved his hand so he could poke Evan’s forehead. “Stop it.”

Evan huffed. “It’s not that simple.”

Connor flicked his nose and Evan scrunched up, batting his hand away. “You’re bullying yourself. And that’s bullshit. You don’t deserve that.”

“Great, thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” Evan drawled.

“Good.”

Evan’s eyes flicked back up to Connor’s face, which was just a bad idea because _fuck he’s so pretty._

Connor shook his head and pushed Evan’s face away. “Dumb,” he mumbled.

Evan pursed his lips because _no._ It was not dumb to recognize that Connor is pretty. It was dumb that Connor clearly did not believe him. But Evan couldn’t argue it because then Connor might realize that Evan didn’t just think he was pretty but he thought he was _attractive_ which was just a whole other thought that Evan hasn’t even had time to figure out _himself_ much less—

“What’s one place that you haven’t been but that you really want to see?” Connor asked suddenly. And it was obvious what he was doing, but Evan was too grateful to be annoyed.

“Redwood National Park,” he answered.

Connor snorted. “No hesitation.”

“No surprise,” Evan shot back. “Tallest trees on Earth. Where else would I want to go?”

“I’m gonna take you there,” Connor said, and it sounded so definitive, so _sure._ Evan almost couldn’t question it.

 _Almost._ “Yeah?” he smiled.

“Yes.” Connor got this really stupid goofy grin. “We’re gonna drive all the way to California and we’re gonna look at some big ass trees and it’s gonna be the best day of your entire fucking life.”

“Sounds like fun.” Evan didn’t want to let himself hope, to believe that he could have something like that. But he could feel it settling in his chest anyway. “Where do you want to go?”

“France,” Connor answered automatically. He put a chip in his mouth and then gestured for Evan to start eating, so Evan dutifully followed suit. “Also Japan. And Italy. And Greece. Australia, Alaska, New Zealand, Mexico, Brazil…”

“So, everywhere?” Evan couldn’t help the amused laugh that bubbled up.

“But France first.”

“Of course.”

“You’ll come with me?”

Evan felt his chest expand to try and fit all the wonder and hope and _everything_ that Connor was filling him with. “You’d want me there?” he asked, voice hesitant and small because he couldn’t handle being let down now. He was too far gone already.

“Of course.”

And Evan had to reach out and poke his cheek, just to make sure he was real, that he hadn’t just made up a best friend in his mind and was currently talking to a hallucination. But Connor was real and solid and _there_ and looking at Evan like he _got it._ And it was just— it was too much. How long had it been? Two days? Why did it feel like it’s been two weeks? He didn’t even— _he didn’t even—_

“What’s your middle name?” he asked suddenly.

Connor raised a brow. “Uh, Lawrence?”

Evan nodded, not sure why he felt better knowing that, but he did. “Okay.”

“You realize you have to tell me yours now.”

“Uh, I don’t have one?”

“What?”

“Yeah. Well, technically, Evan _was_ my middle name. I mean, I always went by it, but it was my middle name. I had my dad’s first name, but my mom changed it when he left and just like… didn’t bother coming up with a middle name? So I was, for the first seven years of my life, Mark Evan Hansen. She was gonna call me Evan Mark Hansen to like… appease my dad or whatever, but at the last minute he got out of paying child support so she took out his name all together and didn’t apologize. Which to this day is the coolest thing she’s ever done, but she also just didn’t bother coming up with a new name? It’s kinda annoying for me on forms or whatever. Sometimes it’s like ‘you cannot leave this field blank’ even though _I have to—_ ”

Connor tapped the inside of his wrist and Evan nodded, sucking air back into his lungs.

“I’m glad she changed it. Mark Hansen is a really garbage name,” Connor told him. “And this is coming from someone whose name is _Murphy._ ”

“There’s nothing wrong with your name!”

“It’s objectively gross sounding.”

Evan scoffed. “What?”

“ _Murph_ -y,” Connor sounded out his last name slowly. “What the fuck even is that?”

“Irish,” Evan deadpanned, earning a snort.

“Alright,” Connor rolled his eyes. “But I am annoyed that I can’t, like, say your middle name in exasperation now. You should give yourself a middle name.”

“What? I can’t do that!”

“Why not? It’s your name.”

And… and, well, Evan didn’t really have an argument for that. “I wouldn’t know what to choose,” he said instead.

“How about ‘Benjamin’?”

Evan scrunched his nose. “What? No. Where did that even come from?”

Connor shrugged. “Branson?”

“ _Branson Hansen?_ Absolutely not.”

“Completely valid, I apologize.” Connor thought for a moment. “Charles?”

Evan shook his head. “No.”

The rest of the lunch period went on like that, Connor offering up random names in the middle of conversation that were almost all immediately rejected by Evan. The suggestions became progressively more ridiculous as time went on, until Connor was saying things like ‘Remington’ and ‘Dumbledore.’

He sighed, officially giving up. “Fuck me.”

“Evan Fuckme Hansen,” Evan deadpanned, just barely managing to hold back his laugh.

Connor let out a surprised bark of laughter, looking over to Evan with a playful crooked grin. “It has a certain ring to it, I think.”

“Oh my god, shut up.”

“It’s fitting, really.”

The bell rang and Evan stood up to start collecting all their garbage as he shook his head at his friend. “Try again,” he said, taking their food scraps to the compost bin.

“Evan Redwood Hansen.”

Evan tilted his head. “Why does that sound dirty?”

Connor choked on a laugh. “Oh my god.”

They went back inside and took their seats at the front, and even though people definitely still looked at them strangely, Evan did a good job at keeping the light atmosphere from outside surrounding them as he nudged Connor with more jokes, carefully keeping his shoulders from tensing up under the gazes of their classmates.

And in their next class they sat dutifully in the back, and when they split up so that Evan could go to botany and Connor could go to art, Evan found himself wondering if Connor sat in the back in there too. It seemed likely, considering their math teacher was apparently his favorite and he still sat in the back of her class.

 **Evan:** _Where do you sit in art class?_

 **Connor:** _?_

 **Evan:** _Just curious._

 **Connor:** _back corner. there’s a window. better lighting._

 **Evan:** _Are there a lot of people in that class?_

 **Connor:** _you ask a lot of questions._

 **Evan:** _Two._

 **Connor:** _that’s a lot_

 **Evan:** _?_

 **Connor:** _it’s important to me that you know i just sighed very loudly_

 **Evan:** _Noted._

 **Connor:** _there’s six other people and they’re all girls._

 **Evan:** _Huh. Same._

All the other people in the botany class were female. Evan assumed it had something to do with high school boys’ fragile masculinity. Though what the fuck a flower was going to do to their sexuality was beyond Evan. Either way it was good for him. Girls weren’t nearly as intimidating as boys.

Well, still intimidating, but Evan wasn’t as worried he was going to get punched in the face. Made fun of? Thought of as gross? Actively avoided? Sure. But he wasn’t physically intimidated. And that was something, at least.

Actually, all of the girls in this class were in the years below him, and most of them seemed to like him. Or not hate him, anyway. Evan wasn’t good at knowing how people felt about him. They asked him questions about plants because he knew the most out of all of them and they listened when he managed to state opinions about how the courtyard should look.

Evan was pretty sure they all thought he was gay. Again because of the flower thing. Maybe Evan was the reason other guys didn’t feel comfortable taking botany. Like, _‘well the only other dude in that class is Evan Hansen and he obviously likes it up the ass so clearly gardens are for girls and gays’_ type of thing. Evan clearly didn’t know what other high school boys talked about. But his point still stood. He wasn’t exactly a great poster boy for “Plants are for Everyone!” or whatever.

_Well, you are gay so—_

_Wait._

Evan dropped the hose he’d been holding, and he distantly heard it clatter against the stones.

_Fuck._

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck._

Fuck, he’s _gay._

_That makes so much fucking sense._

“Hey, Evan,” Elsie Taylor was looking at him worriedly, eyes flickering between him and the hose at his feet. “Are you… okay?”

Evan looked over and his brain sort of short circuited because Elsie was pretty (not like Connor Pretty but that was irrelevant right now). Like, she was just objectively really pretty. But he didn’t care? He did not care _at all_ what she thought of him. And that’s a weird thing to realize. That he’d been spending the last seventeen years of his life subconsciously worried about appearing like a suitable mate for the opposite sex. On top of all the other bullshit he was constantly worried about. It’s not like he was suddenly _unworried_ but it was definitely one less thing to be constantly conscious of and _that was something._

Evan let out this little hysterical laugh that he couldn’t stop if he wanted to. His eyes were wide and he was sure he looked like a startled moose but he didn’t _care._ “I’m gay,” he said, stupidly, embrassingly, and without his own permission. But he had to say it out loud before it exploded out of him. And then tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, and _fuck. This is really not the time, nor place, nor_ person, _Evan, you absolute moron._

Elsie gave a sort of confused smile. “Um, okay?” Her brow furrowed as she realized Evan looked like he was about to cry. “Oh, shit, hold on.” She grabbed his hand and guided him to the far side of the courtyard, away from their classmates, and then sort of shoved him down onto the bench. “You looked like you were about to pass out,” she said by way of explanation, sitting down next to him. “Is that… did you just realize that or something?”

Evan nodded and wiped pathetically at his eyes.

“Yeah, I remember that. It’s sort of exhilarating and terrifying all at once, right?”

He nodded again, eyes wide as he realized what she was saying. _Oh thank god. She’s gay too. This could have been so much worse. Thank god for lesbians—_

“Breathe,” Elsie ordered, and Evan sucked in a breath. She had the sort of tone of voice that demanded she be listened to. “I know this isn’t gonna help but I have to say it anyway. There’s no reason to freak out. I’m not judging you. And I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

She’s right. It didn’t help. He was still freaking out. But it was nice to hear anyway.

“If anything it’s really a good thing you told me first. You should always tell someone you don’t know first. It makes all the subsequent important times easier.” She patted his shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Evan shook his head at first, but it eventually turned into a sort of noncommittal shrug. On the one hand, he really didn’t want to talk _at all._ But on the other… well, he just learned something _pretty freaking important_ and he still kind of felt like exploding. But it also wasn’t Elsie’s job to have to deal with him. They barely even knew each other. “I just feel really stupid,” he said quietly.

“Why?”

“I mean, who takes until they’re _seventeen_ to figure out they’re gay? That’s just… that’s sad.” _Pathetic pathetic pathetic._

“Some people take until they’re married with kids to figure it out. There’s no _wrong_ way to realize you’re gay. It just happens.”

And now Evan was playing out _that_ version of his life and spiraling down that rabbit hole and he sort of had to claw his way out of his own throat as Elsie cursed herself and patted his shoulder again.

“Is… are your parents not chill, or something?”

“What?” Evan’s eyes widened as he realized oh, yeah. He’d have to tell his mom. Oh god, that was going to be a nightmare conversation. He was definitely going to cry again. And she’s going to have _so many questions._ And Evan won’t have the answers. He knows he won’t. He’s never even kissed another person— much less another guy. How does he know he’s gay? It’s not like he has _proof._ She’s gonna want proof and an explanation and Evan doesn’t know how he’s supposed to get those things. Maybe he doesn’t know he’s gay. Maybe he has to actually kiss someone and like… have sex with them before he knows. That will never happen. No one would ever want to kiss him much less… No, Evan will just walk around not knowing his sexuality for the rest of his life and die sad and _alone—_

“I can see you spiraling but I don’t know what’s going on in there, so I can’t help you unless you tell me, Evan.” She’d make a good therapist. Certainly better than Dr. Sherman.

He tried to regain control of his breathing. “I’ve— I’ve never— I’ve never even _kissed_ anyone. So— so how can I know? I don’t— Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m just an idiot and—”

“Nope, nope, no.” Elsie was shaking her head, gesturing outward like she was physically pushing away Evan’s thoughts. “Think about it. Right now. Think about a girl. A really pretty one. Think about kissing her, and having sex with her, and marrying her, and spending the whole of the rest of your life with a girl. Cooking and laughing and drinking and going out. Imagine it in first person. Close your eyes. Right now. Do it.”

Evan closed his eyes and tried to do as she said, but it was hard. The images just seemed wrong and fake. His stomach twisted uncomfortably.

“Does it look at all appealing?”

Evan shook his head. It wasn’t _bad._ It was just _unreal._ Not for him.

“Now do the same thing but with a boy,” she ordered.

Evan hated himself for it, but the boy he imagined was Connor. He couldn’t help it. She said to imagine someone pretty and Connor was just _so pretty._ He imagined kissing Connor and being in bed with Connor and singing and laughing in the kitchen with Connor. And it was just so… well, anxiety inducing because _that’s your friend you creepy freak!!_ But also… really really nice. He wanted it. He wanted it so bad it almost hurt.

“ _Fuck,_ ” he breathed, and it was very out of character for him, but he couldn’t help it. It was too much to put into words.

“Yeah?” Elsie asked, and she sounded teasing. He opened his eyes to make sure and yeah, she was smiling at him. “Feel sure about it now?”

Evan never felt sure about anything. But this might be the closest thing to sure he’s felt in a really long time. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I’m really really gay.” And a little incredulous laugh burst out of him even though he was still crying.

Elsie laughed along with him. “Welcome to the club.” She held her hand up for a fist bump and Evan felt ridiculous as he bumped their firsts together, but also kind of amazing. No one had ever offered him a fist bump before. _Wow that’s sad._ “Do you need to sit here for a moment or do you wanna get back to planting flowers?”

“Flowers, please,” Evan said, relieved that he could go do something that he knew made him feel better.

The main reason Evan gardened so much (outside of just being green or whatever) is that it was of the few activities that could just _shut his brain up._ And apparently Elsie was actually the best person to accidentally come out to because she did not once try to press the issue. Evan mostly let himself get lost in the process of potting, but he would occasionally feel the need to look up and freak out for half a second, and every time Elsie would just nod along like he was acting completely normally which was reassuring.

When the bell rang it was almost a surprise, because it simultaneously felt like it had been five minutes and five years since the class started.

And Evan just… sprinted out of the classroom. It isn’t until he reached his locker and no one was waiting for him there that he realized it was both out of character for him to leave so quickly and probably also rude to not say anything to Elsie. 

He looked down at his phone as it lit up with a rare instagram notification, informing him of a new follower: _@elsie.taylove_. And a second later a new message.

 **@elsie.taylove:** _I looked up and you were gone, dude. Glad you’re ig is linked to your name, jesus christ. You can’t just tell a girl you’re gay, not answer the family question, and then just fuckin bolt. Now I’m afraid you’re gonna jump off a bridge or some shit. Answer me so I know you’re not dead._

Evan wildly thought that she and Connor would make good friends. They’re both very straight forward. Maybe Evan just preferred a certain type of person: Gay and Direct.

 **@dearevanhansen:** _I’m sorry I don’t know why I felt the need to run. I’m alive and I plan to stay that way._

He was surprised that he actually meant that for once. He was so used to lying about his suicidal tendencies.

 **@elsie.taylove:** _Good to know. Anyway feel free to hmu on here if you need to vent? Idk if you plan on coming out to anyone else (like someone you actually know?) anytime soon but it sucks being in the closet and sometimes it helps just knowing there’s someone else who knows and who you can talk to._

Evan wondered if she always communicated in full paragraphs. He didn’t really know how to respond. She was being really nice and that was so outside of Evan’s normal he didn’t really know what to do. 

**@elsie.taylove:** _My little brother also has pretty severe anxiety, so I sort of get it? Been meaning to talk to you for a while but I didn’t want to scare you, sorry. Idk if you know the Murphys but Zoe’s in my grade? We sort of bonded over having brothers with mental illness. And like, this is weird, but you’re not the first person to randomly come out to me. I think I just have one of those faces. Anyway, my point is I’m a safe space if you ever need one._

 **@dearevanhansen:** _I know the Murphys. Connor’s my best friend._

He didn’t know why he sent that. He technically hasn’t even told _Connor_ that. Though it feels sort of implied by this point. But she mentioned him first, technically. It might have been a bit defensive though. A lot of Zoe’s friends were the ones calling Connor a freak and spreading rumors. 

**@elsie.taylove:** _Oh that’s awesome. Good for both of you, honestly._

 **@dearevanhansen:** _Um, and thank you for caring? You totally don’t have to._

 **@elsie.taylove:** _Yeah but I do so deal with it._

 **@dearevanhansen:** _I think you and Connor would get along._

 **@elsie.taylove:** _Zoe said the same thing._

Evan wanted to ask when that was. Because it seemed to him that Zoe didn’t know her brother at all anymore. Maybe it was a long time ago.

“Who are you texting?” Connor asked, suddenly standing right next to him and making Evan jump.

“Agh!” Evan tossed his phone and Connor managed to catch it before it shattered on the floor. Evan snatched it back quickly before he could read what Elsie had said. He couldn’t come out to Connor yet. There was no way that he would be able to hide that he was crushing on him.

_Crushing. Huh. That’s new._

“Elsie Taylor,” Evan answered. “She’s in my botany class.”

“Oh?” Connor raised a brow. “Found yourself a flower girl to fawn over, Hansen?”

_Hansen._

Evan’s brow furrowed as he looked Connor up and down. It was obvious he was trying to seem relaxed, but his shoulders were too high and his fingers were curling inwards.

_And his damn hoodie strings are uneven._

Evan remained carefully silent as he reached up to fix them, relieved when Connor didn’t flinch away. Which at least meant he wasn’t mad at him yet. Though Evan had no idea what triggered the sudden paranoia clearly warring behind Connor’s eyes, he wasn’t about to open his mouth and make things worse. He waited until his shoulders dropped again before speaking. “Elsie’s gay so I don’t think she’d appreciate any _fawning_ from me,” he said dryly, and Connor’s fists unclenched. He let out a little breath and Evan wondered why he’d been holding it.

He settled his hands against Connor’s chest once the strings were even. He could feel his heartbeat. Was it fast? Evan didn’t know what the normal speed of a heart was supposed to be, but he found it hard to believe he would have been able to sleep last night if Connor’s heart had been beating this fast in his ear. 

“You’re friends then?” he asked.

Evan shook his head immediately. “No. No. No, she would not want to be friends with me.”

“What? Why not?” Connor tensed again but this time he looked ready to fight— offensive instead of defensive. Like he was going to hunt Elsie Taylor down and insist she be friends with Evan. “Was she bullying you?” he demanded. “Isn’t she one of Zoe’s friends? One of those preppy—”

Evan moved his hands to settle on Connor’s biceps, squeezing lightly to cut him off. “I had a bit of a freak out in class and she was making sure I wasn’t about to jump off a bridge,” he said seriously, and Connor’s rigid demeanor immediately broke, softening up and staring at Evan with wide worried eyes.

He started looking him up and down, like his anxiety attack might have left visible signs of damage. “Are you okay?” he asked, his tone completely changed into something almost gentle.

“I’m fine,” Evan assured him. “Apparently Elsie’s brother has anxiety so she was pretty good.”

“Oh.” Connor looked like a weird mix of relieved and also… _jealous?_

_Right. Because you’re his only friend too._

“Not as good as you though,” Evan said quickly, before he could process it and chicken out.

Connor snorted, and he tried to appear indifferent or unimpressed but the blush staining his cheeks gave away how pleased he actually was. “Whatever. Shut up.”

Evan grinned up at him. Connor looked beautiful when he blushed. And his hair was still up so he couldn’t even try to hide it. Evan suddenly needed to see more. He pushed his luck, “She didn’t even hug me. Kinda disappointing really.”

Connor seemed to realize Evan was teasing him, but he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. “Oh, she didn’t?” he asked, stepping closer and putting his hands on Evan’s hips.

Evan suppressed a shudder (just barely), and nodded. “Yeah, and it sucks, cos, I’m like, super touch starved.”

“Touch starved?” Connor repeated, inching closer, and Evan’s hands moved up to his shoulders.

“Completely.”

“Well, we can’t have that.”

“Very unhealthy,” Evan agreed.

And then Connor closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms firmly around Evan’s waist and full on lifting him into the air as he hugged him.

Evan let out a little indignant squeak as his feet left the ground and Connor spun them around. “Connor!” he yelped, scrambling for purchase around his shoulders.

But it was over as quickly as it started. Connor put Evan back on his toes and Evan had to catch his breath before he remembered to let go of him. _Don’t hold on. Don’t hold on. It’ll only hurt worse when he pulls away. Don’t get attached to something you won’t be able to keep._

Connor’s phone buzzed and he groaned when he read whatever notification he received. “I shouldn’t have agreed to give Zoe a ride home,” he said, looking back to Evan apologetically. “My mom will probably try to trap you into dinner.”

Evan’s stomach churned for reasons completely unrelated to vegan lasagna. He thought for a second about asking Connor to drop him off at home first, but then that would mean he wouldn’t get to spend the afternoon with him, and being home alone with his new gay thoughts seemed even less appealing than suffering through a painfully awkward meal with the Murphys. “O-oh, uh, that— that’s okay.”

“You don’t look even a little bit okay with that, Ev.”

Evan pouted. “Well—” he huffed. “It’s better than all the other options.”

Connor smirked, raising a brow. “Oh? What options are those?”

Evan absolutely was _not_ going to admit to not wanting to be alone. “Doing math homework by myself,” he answered dryly, cheekily.

Connor snorted. “You using me for my brains, Ev?” It was teasing, not anything like his usual paranoia. Like he was actually able to convince himself it wasn’t true.

Evan didn’t miss a beat. “Absolutely not. I’m using you for your cooking. Your brain is just an added bonus.”

Connor laughed and slung his arm around Evan’s shoulders, turning him so that they could start to walk. “C’mon,” he said.

Zoe was already waiting by the car when they reached the parking lot, but she only looked mildly annoyed rather than completely pissed, so at least that was something.

Connor blasted the radio again, but Evan very carefully did not sing along this time. He wished Zoe hadn’t told him that she’d been watching him and Connor. Even though like, obviously she would. She was just in the backseat. But Evan just wasn’t comfortable with anybody seeing him other than Connor. Especially now that he can put a name to the things he feels for him. He doesn’t need anybody reading that on his face. Especially not his sister. _What if she told him? He would get grossed out and yell at Evan and leave—_

“Welcome back to hell,” Connor said, turning down the music as he pulled into his driveway.

“Ugh, dramatic much?” Zoe rolled her eyes, slinging her bag over her shoulder as they all got out of the car.

“Can’t be more hellish than high school,” Evan mumbled. 

Connor laughed and Zoe startled, shooting Evan a glance that he didn’t know how to interpret. _Surprised? Maybe?_

She rolled her eyes again and took the first step towards the paved stones leading to the front door. Once she got it unlocked she was gone like a bullet, sprinting up the stairs. They heard her bedroom door close a second after she disappeared down the hall.

Connor was unfazed by this as it was apparently routine. He went up the stairs at a much more leisurely pace, talking to Evan as he went. “I’d offer you food but nothing in there is edible.” He made a vague gesture in the direction of the kitchen then led Evan into his room for the second time that day.

He dropped his bag by his desk and Evan followed suit, glad to have the heavy thing off his shoulders. He watched as Connor pulled a massive bag of Sour Patch Kids from his sock drawer and plopped it on the nightstand by his bed. Then he grabbed two cokes from the mini fridge and handed one to Evan. 

Evan took it with a small smirk. “You keep a sugar stash in your bedroom?”

Connor shrugged, putting the Reese’s from the fridge next to the other candy. “Yeah dude, I’ve got depression.” He fell backwards into his bed, propping his head up just enough to take a sip of his drink. “Cynthia doesn’t keep sugar in the house but I gotta get that serotonin somehow.” He took another loud drink for emphasis. “This shit’s cheaper than weed.”

Evan hummed and opened his own coke. “Personally, I’d recommend antidepressants.”

Connor glanced at him. “Do yours work?”

Evan shook his head. “No, not at all.” He shrugged. “They used to, I think.”

“Yeah, they just changed mine. It sucks.”

“That’s why I haven’t told my therapist.”

Connor squinted at his ceiling. “That’s stupid.”

“I’m stupid.” Evan didn’t mean to say that. Well, he did. But he meant for it to come out as a joke. Instead he just sounded sad.

Connor threw a peanut butter cup at him. “Nah, you’re not.” He sat up and gave Evan a serious look. “Your brain’s just an asshole.”

Evan smirked, rolling the wrapped candy between his fingers. “There’s an exercise in therapy… they like, ask you what you would say to someone else in your situation? This feels like that.”

Connor laughed, falling back into the bed. “Yeah, I’m always garbage at that. She’s always like, ‘What would you say to a friend going through that, Connor?’ And I’m like, ‘Damn, Lauren, I don’t fucking know. I don’t have any fucking friends. _That’s the whole problem._ ’”

Evan frowned and moved across the room. He put the coke and candy down on the nightstand and kneeled down next to Connor on the bed. “I’m your friend,” he said quietly, tying knots into the hem of his shirt. It wasn’t technically anything they hadn’t already said. The difference is all those other times had been directed at other people— a useful descriptor. This time it was explicit.

The anger and frustration that had gathered behind Connor’s brow slowly melted away as he looked up at Evan. “Yeah?” 

He had to have known a question like that would make Evan ramble, _he had to._

“Y-yeah, I mean, if— if that’s what you want, I mean. Uh, I’ve never really had a friend? Before? I mean, Jared used to be my— my friend? I think? But now— now he says we’re just— just _family_ friends, and that— that’s a- a whole different thing? I guess? Yeah. So, um, I’m probably— I’m probably not a very— a very good friend. Because if I was then why would Jared drop me like that, y’know? But— But I really— I like— I mean, I want to be your friend. You’re like, kind of my best friend— Well, you’re my only friend, and that— that just makes you my best friend. But also, I like— I, uh, I like hanging out with you and, and just being— being around you? Gosh, that sounds so creepy. I don’t mean like— I just—”

Connor’s hand landed on Evan’s. “You’re my best friend too, Ev.”

Evan risked a glance up at him. “Yeah?” _God, he sounded so small and pathetic—_

“Yes,” Connor said firmly.

Evan finally managed to catch his breath. “Good. Good. That’s—”

“Good?” Connor’s smile was teasing.

Evan squinted at him and swatted at his knee. “Yes. Good.”

“Good.”

Evan rolled his eyes and then off the bed. “We have homework,” he said, and proceeded to ignore Connor’s groan. “And I want to get it done before your parents manage to give me another anxiety attack.”

And Connor clearly couldn’t argue with that. He knew that, barring a miracle, dinner was going to be a complete disaster. If one of them didn’t end up running out the house in tears they’d be counting it as a win. “Fine,” he said, sitting up and scooching over so that they could both work on the bed.

They started with math, dividing up the problems and then swapping to copy, so it went by fairly quickly, only lagging when one of them needed to google how to put something in the graphing calculator. Then they worked through the assigned history chapter and comprehension questions.

That finished Evan’s homework for the day, but Connor still had some for his other classes. He spent some time on a worksheet while Evan played a game on his phone. Then Connor pulled out a book that was written in French and asked Evan if he minded if he read it out loud.

“It just makes more sense that way,” he explained.

Evan knew it was absolutely _not_ a good idea to listen to Connor speak French when his brain was still spinning with all the new Gay Thoughts For His Best Friend, but he couldn’t exactly tell him no. What would be his excuse? _‘No, I’m sorry, Connor. If you speak French right now I will come in pants. It just can’t be helped.’_ Absolutely not.

“O-oh, yeah, uh, sure.” Fun fact: Evan Hansen was also self-destructive.

“Cool.”

So Connor started reading and Evan just sort of… watched him. Evan had his knees pulled up to his chest and he rested his head there, pressing his lips together as he stared up at his best friend. The language flowed so easily from Connor’s lips, one wouldn’t guess he’d only been learning it for four years. Evan knew for sure there were other students in his class who didn’t know French half as well as this.

Eventually the sound mixed with the image became too much, and Evan had to lay down. He closed his eyes and let Connor’s voice wash over him. He got lost in the cadence of a story he couldn’t understand.

“Zoe! Connor!” A voice suddenly called from downstairs and Evan jumped, realizing he was on the edge of falling asleep.

Connor halted his reading in the middle of a sentence. “ _Merde,_ Mom’s home.”

Evan glanced up at him. “Is that a bad word?”

He squinted at him for a moment. Apparently he didn’t realize he had cursed in French and not English. “What? Oh, yeah. I meant to say shit.”

Evan snorted in amusement and Connor laughed at himself a bit too, even though he swatted at Evan’s knee, “Shut up.”

“Connor?” Cynthia called again. Either Zoe was downstairs or they didn’t notice when she answered.

Connor’s shouting was loud enough for the neighbors to hear, surely. “Yeah! Evan’s here too!”

There was a bit of a pause and then they could hear Cynthia coming up the stairs. Evan pulled himself back to sitting right before she opened the door, not bothering to knock.

“Oh, hello, Evan!” She sounded surprised even though Connor had just told her he was there. “Will you be staying for dinner? We’d love to have you.”

“O-oh, um…” Evan also sounded surprised even though Connor had told him this was coming. He looked helplessly at his friend. _Was he supposed to accept? What if it’s an empty invitation and Evan should be able to see that and it would be rude for him to—_

“Yeah, sure, Mom,” Connor answered, being sure to roll his eyes.

Cynthia positively beamed. “Wonderful! Dinner should be ready in about an hour.” And then she flounced away, leaving the door open.

“Jesus fucking Christ—” Connor cut himself off, shaking his head and grumbling as he stood up to go shut the door. He didn’t slam it, but it was a lot more forceful than necessary. He looked back to Evan and deflated just slightly. “Sorry.”

Evan didn’t know if he was apologizing for getting angry about the door or for his mom roping him into dinner, but either way he shrugged. “It’s okay. Do you wanna watch Netflix or something?” He had a feeling Connor wouldn’t want to read anymore. (And he was sure he couldn’t handle much more of it; he’d spent the last half hour fantasizing about jumping his bones.)

“Sure.” Connor turned on his TV and navigated through the Netflix menu until he found the episode of _Parks & Rec _that they’d left off on yesterday.

They got through two and a half episodes before Cynthia called them down for dinner (and Evan didn’t focus on a single minute of it as he was completely consumed by the fact that their knees would knock together every few seconds). 

They ran into Zoe in the hallway. She sort of looked like she wanted to make some kind of cutting remark, but she held herself back at the last second, taking a deep breath instead. Connor watched her carefully, on edge, and Evan reached out to tap his hip. “C’mon,” he said quietly, speaking to both of them. “We’re all on the same side.”

Connor made a derisive sound while Zoe looked at Evan like he was crazy. “Which side is that?” she asked.

Evan shrugged. “Operation: Let’s Get This Over With As Quickly and Quietly As Possible?”

And they could at least both agree on that to some extent, as they didn’t try to fight him on it. Evan realized as they headed downstairs though that the bulk of the conversation would probably be thrust upon him if he didn’t want the two siblings to start snapping at each other and their parents.

The plates were already set when they got to the table and they sat down silently, all of them too afraid to open their mouths and start a war.

“So, how was school?” Mr. Murphy asked once everyone was seated and served.

“Good,” Zoe said.

“Fine,” Connor mumbled.

They all looked at Evan and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “O-oh, uh, yeah. Good. Fine.” His grip tightened on his fork and he momentarily weighed the pros and cons of stabbing himself in the eye.

Connor sent his sister a look and she sat up straighter. “I had an audition for a guitar solo in jazz band today,” she offered suddenly, regaining her parents’ attention, and Evan remembered to breathe, dropping his fork. He felt Connor’s knee press against his underneath the table.

“Oh, that’s wonderful, sweetie!” Cynthia exclaimed. She sounded like she sang everything she ever said.

“How did it go?” Larry asked.

Zoe’s smile looked a bit more genuine. “Good, I think. I’ll find out next week if I got it.”

“Well, fingers crossed!” Cynthia chirped, holding up her hand in demonstration. She was unreal to Evan.

“Connor, how are your classes this year?” Larry turned the attention back to his son. “Assuming you’ve attended any of them.”

It was clearly supposed to be a joke, he said it with a smile, but Connor wasn’t great at taking jokes at his expense. He tensed and Evan surreptitiously pressed back into his knee, giving him the same ground that he’d provided Evan earlier. Connor took a breath and managed to center himself before he snapped. “Uh, good, actually,” he said. “Evan’s in most of my classes, so. And we have Mrs. Cartwright for math.”

Cynthia softened. “Oh she’s always been very good to you. Evan, do you know Mrs. Cartwright?”

Evan coughed to try and get the lump out of his throat. “Oh, um, not— not before this year, no. But she seems nice?”

There was a bit of a heavy pause.

“You said you’re taking botany, didn’t you?” Larry asked, apparently wanting to move away from Mrs. Cartwright and why she was so nice. “My school didn’t offer that when I was your age. What do you guys do in there?”

“Oh, well,” Evan straightened up. “The lectures are all on the science of different kinds of plants. Y’know, their physiology, genetics, classification, that sort of thing. But we’ll also discuss the ecological and economic importance of certain types of plants as well. Trees, for obvious reasons, but also certain aquatic plantlife and desert ones too. Our main focus— the reason I really like the class, anyway, is the courtyard? We get to plant all sorts of things out there and we have a compost bin, which is cool. I got to help plan it last year and I’m the only senior this year so it usually… well, I get a lot of say in how it looks, basically.”

Evan glanced back up, realizing he’d rambled, and he found Zoe staring at him like he was an alien. He looked over to Connor though, and he was grinning proudly. “Evan’s courtyard is really cool,” he informed his family.

He sputtered. “Well, it’s not _mine—_ ”

“No, it totally is,” Connor insisted. “There’s only six other people in that class and they don’t know half as much as Evan does.”

“I didn’t even know our school had a courtyard,” Zoe said.

Connor laughed kindly and Evan noticed his family startle slightly. He really must not do that often. “Yeah, I didn’t either,” he agreed. “Apparently the botany class has been holding out on us.”

Cynthia was beaming at her son, occasionally flickering over to Evan. She looked like she wanted to stand up and hug him. Evan really hoped she wouldn’t. “I bet it’s gorgeous, Evan,” she was still basically singing, but it seemed more natural now. Maybe Evan just wasn’t used to the cadences of moms who weren’t always halfway out the door.

Evan turned bright red under the praise. “Oh, well…”

“It is,” Connor said firmly. “Evan’s a really good gardener. He’s got one at home too, don’t you, Ev?”

Evan nodded, unsure if he could actually get words out with this many people looking at him.

“What do you grow at home, dear?” Cynthia asked.

“O-oh, well,” Evan cleared his throat. “Herbs and vegetables, mostly. Nothing too— nothing too exciting really. I also have flower beds and window boxes and those change with the season… And, uh, rose bushes?” Evan was frantically trying to remember everything in his backyard, feeling a bit like he was taking a timed verbal exam.

“Really?” Cynthia went on, sounding impressed. “I tried growing roses but I could never get them to bloom.”

Evan had heard that one before. The explanation was second nature by this point, and it just sort of tumbled out of him, “Roses need a lot of space— that’s a pretty good rule of thumb for most thorny flowers, actually. They don’t like being too close to one another and they hate wet feet. So deep holes to start and at least three feet between each bush.” 

Cynthia smiled at Evan and it was the same sweet and open one that Connor sometimes gave him. “That’s wonderful advice, thank you, dear.”

Evan blushed and ducked his head. “O-oh, no problem,” he said quietly. Connor grabbed his hand underneath the table and Evan gripped it for dear life.

Connor turned to his father. “Dad, how was work?” he asked, knowing he needed to get the attention away from Evan before he exploded.

Larry blinked at him for a few seconds, unable to hide his surprise. He managed to recover quickly enough, however, and the conversation turned to his latest case. Evan even managed to make a few good comments since it was about water pollution, and Evan’s genuine interest encouraged Larry to keep talking and for Connor to actually listen as well. And Cynthia and Zoe joined in, both desperate to keep the easy air going. 

It was obvious by all the Murphys' occasionally shocked faces (like they were periodically checking in to make sure they weren’t hallucinating) that this was not how family dinners normally went. By the end they all managed to choke down enough vegan lasagna to not be rude, but had good conversation as the excuse for not getting seconds.

Once the table was cleared Evan looked to the clock and realized it was already seven. “I should probably be getting home,” he told Connor quietly as the rest of the Murphys moved to the living room. “My mom will be home in an hour.”

Connor nodded, though he looked a bit sad. “Okay, I’ll drive you.” 

They went back up to his room so that Evan could get his things, and Zoe appeared in the doorway as he was packing away his homework.

“That… actually went well?” she said by way of greeting. “Is that what family dinners are supposed to look like?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Evan and Connor both answered together, and then shared an amused look.

Zoe laughed smally. “I guess the actual operation name should have been Keep Talking About Plants and Nobody Gets Hurt.”

Evan snorted. “More like: Keep Talking About Plants so Evan Won’t Explode.”

Connor held his hands up dramatically. “Plants: The Great Equalizer.”

“Ugh that’s so much better,” Zoe complained, laughing. She turned to Evan. “Seriously though, come to dinner whenever you want. It’s clearly much better with you here.”

Evan flushed and winced slightly at the idea. “Uh, no offense, but I kind of prefer your brother’s cooking over your mom’s.”

Connor looked entirely too pleased with himself, but he nodded along in agreement. “Yeah, sorry, sis, we will still be avoiding Mom’s food like the plague. Evan’s kitchen has meat and cheese. Y’know, the primary ingredients in a lasagna.”

Zoe pouted. “You’d leave me here to suffer alone?”

“Yep!” Connor popped the ‘p’ and patted her on the head as he went past her, taking Evan with him. 

“S-see you later, Zoe,” Evan managed, chasing Connor down the stairs.

“Oh, are you two leaving?” Cynthia called before they could get past the living room.

“Yeah, just taking Evan home,” Connor answered, inching backwards towards the door.

“Okay, well, it was so lovely having you, Evan. Please come back whenever you like.”

“Th-thank you, Mrs. Murphy.”

“Please call me Cynthia, dear.”

 _Absolutely not._ Evan nodded.

“Is Evan leaving?” Larry called, and then a second later he appeared in the archway as well. “It was nice talking to you, son. Come back anytime, I’d love to hear more about your thoughts on point source pollution regulations.” He gave Evan a sort of knowing look. It was one of the rambles he’d gone on during dinner where he’d had to cut himself off before he got too angry and flustered and embarrassed himself even more.

“O-oh, alright,” Evan managed, sure his face was bright red.

“Alright, Evan’s really gotta get home now,” Connor said, nudging him towards the door.

“Be safe!” Cynthia called, and Connor tosseed a hand up in recognition that she’d spoken before getting them outside and shutting the door behind them.

He gave Evan a look. “My parents are in love with you,” he said dryly.

Evan cringed. “Sorry. Parents— they just. I think they feel bad for me?” He followed Connor out to his car and got in the passenger seat. “At least, well, Jared’s mom always felt bad for me. That’s why she makes him hang out with me before she’ll pay his car insurance.”

Connor’s brow furrowed, a mix of abject horror and anger. “That’s fucked up,” he declared, backing out of the driveway and turning onto the road. “And no, that’s not it. Larry’s glad there’s someone who will engage in his environmental whatever and Cynthia’s over the fucking moon that there’s someone on this planet who I actually give a shit about.”

Evan pursed his lips. “Well, then, thanks, I guess?”

“Thanks for making a family dinner bearable.”

Evan was quiet for a long time, thinking over what he wanted to say. He didn’t speak until they were turning onto his road. “I get why you get frustrated with them. I can tell that they’re all harder on you, and your dad seems like the type to push things. And that’s really unfair for you.” He felt Connor glancing at him, so Evan turned so that he could see his face. “But they also don’t seem like intentionally bad people. And I can tell they care about you. They just have weird ways of showing it… Your dad and your sister might actually be emotionally stunted?”

That had the desired effect of getting Connor to laugh. “I told my therapist one time that I don’t think either of them would cry at my funeral.”

Evan closed his eyes and shook his head. “How did that not immediately get you admitted?”

“Oh she went on a very long rant about why I shouldn’t kill myself and made me recite my safety plan.” He pulled into Evan’s driveway and put the car in park. “It was really annoying.”

“Well,” Evan huffed. “I would definitely cry at your funeral, but I’d really rather _not have to do that,_ if it’s all the same to you.”

Connor chuckled. “That’s the sassiest way anyone has ever told me not to kill myself.”

Evan raised a brow. “Do I need to be more serious?”

Connor shook his head quickly. “No. Today was a good day… It’s been a good few days, actually.”

“Good.”

“You realize I now also have to make sure you aren’t gonna kill yourself, right?”

Evan rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to kill myself.”

“Good.”

Evan huffed out a breath. “Speaking of emotionally stunted,” he mumbled. Connor snorted and swatted at his arm and Evan giggled, opening his door and getting out. “See you tomorrow?” he asked, leaning down.

Connor smirked. “Yeah, I’ll pick you up.”

“O-oh, you don’t have to—”

“I’ll be here at eight.”

Evan smiled, aware of the blood rushing to his cheeks. “Okay,” he said softly, and shut the door.

Connor stayed in the driveway until Evan was safely inside, and that fact might have made Evan’s heart do a few backflips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Evan is gay" may or may not be a controversial statement in this fandom. I don't know; I don't have a tumblr. (That's what the kids are doing nowadays isn't it?) But I noticed that he's usually bi in a lot of fics. That's usually because people keep the he-has-a-crush-on-Zoe thing as a plot device though and I didn't keep that so... Yeah. Idk. I'm gay. I had a gay awakening. I like writing about characters having gay awakenings.
> 
> ALSO: There's a lot going on in the world right now. Everything is fucked. It's okay if you need to take a step back and distract yourself every now and again. As long as you come back and join the fight when you're ready. This is me recognizing that the majority of the people reading DEH fics are probably dealing with anxiety and depression themselves and I just want to say I see you and your feelings are valid. Even if they're not productive. Feelings rarely are.
> 
> Please find ways to put those feelings into action: [blacklivesmatters.carrd.co](blacklivesmatters.carrd.co)


	5. Hey, look at me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “All I’m saying is there’s not many friends who would go batshit protective at an entire class and then literally fucking carry them out of the room.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friday
> 
> **!! READ THE TAGS !!**

Evan didn’t sleep well that night. Or at all.

It reminded him of the night after he’d broken his arm. Not as tragic, obviously, but it was a similar feeling. The sudden obliteration of expectation: the fact that there wasn’t a word for it was frustrating. 

Evan always liked words and labels. He liked that there were neat little ways to easily define something. The voice in the back of his head that’s constantly informing him of every little thing that could and will go wrong? _Anxiety._ That slow ache that builds in his chest and consumes his entire being for days on end? _Anxiety attack._ The combination crying and asthma and vomiting that makes him feel like he’s literally dying over nothing? _Panic attack._ The reason he sometimes just couldn’t get out of bed in the mornings and every little movement seemed like an insurmountable task? _Depression._

The words made it feel more real. The words were proof that he wasn’t the only one. It wasn’t just something he made up in his head.

Now he had a new word. A word for the new feeling in his chest that was so different from the others. Because now instead of cold and empty he felt warm all over, and his stomach wasn’t twisting with nerves, but fluttering. And it turns out there’s a reason he’s never had a crush on a girl and porn always made him uncomfortable. He’s not stunted. He’s not too anxious. He’s _gay._

It was as freeing as it was terrifying.

Because not only is he gay, but he’s gay for his best friend, and that… that was absolutely not okay. There was no way Connor could ever feel the same way about him. Even if he is gay too (which Evan couldn’t confirm but he was _pretty sure_ ), he still wouldn’t have feelings for _Evan._ Connor was beautiful and cool and mysterious and talented, and Evan was just… Evan. He was a boring anxious mess. Evan didn’t even like himself. There’s no way anyone else ever would.

And he just so very desperately didn’t want to lose Connor. He _finally_ had a real actual friend and he refused to give that up for anything. So what if he had to pine for the rest of his life? That was still better than being alone again.

_But one day he’ll find someone who is worth loving and he’ll leave you._

Evan groaned and shoved his face into the pillow. It was well past two in the morning and he hadn’t gotten even a second of sleep. His mind was spiralling in circles, over and over the same thought process. He was really starting to reconsider the promise not to kill himself. He’d just spent the last six hours bullying himself and he was just _so tired._ The voices in his head needed to shut up somehow and if sleep wouldn’t do it… 

He glanced at the bottle of Xanax on his nightstand and his fingers twitched to take it.

Instead he picked up his phone and found the text thread with Connor.

 **Evan:** _Are you up?_

He didn’t really expect an answer, but less than a minute later he got one anyway.

 **Connor:** _no_

 **Evan:** _Is that you being sassy or you telling me to go away?_

 **Connor:** _why are you awake ev?_

 **Evan:** _Couldn’t sleep. Going crazy._

 **Connor:** _are you safe?_

 **Evan:** _I think so._

He barely managed to send that through before his phone was ringing. He swiped to answer it without thinking, processing in the background that that probably meant his filter wasn’t working.

“Hello?” he spoke quietly, afraid of waking his mom.

“You _think so?_ ” Connor was not affording his family the same courtesy of low volume.

“Well, I mean…” Evan stared up at his ceiling, feeling dizzy. “As safe as I usually am, I guess. I’ve got a pharmacy of drugs on my nightstand and a mother that sleeps like the dead— if she’s ever home.” _Yeah, the filter definitely isn’t working. Way too tired._

“Did something happen?” He had at least lowered his voice.

Evan shrugged even though Connor couldn’t see him. “I just realized some stuff and now my brain won’t shut up about it.”

“What stuff?”

He started absently counting the glow stars for the fifteenth time that night. He spoke without thinking, “That I’ve spent the last seventeen years of my life assuming I was straight even though that is not even a little bit true.”

Connor made a noise that Evan wouldn’t know how to describe. Somewhere between choking, coughing, and laughing? He might have been dying, actually. Was that the sound people make when they die? “Evan, Jesus Fucking Christ,” he sputtered.

Evan didn’t know what to say so he didn’t say anything. He was _so tired._

“What… what made you come to this conclusion?” Connor asked, and he sounded hesitant. Evan supposed he probably wasn’t like Elsie and didn’t have much practice with people randomly coming out to him. In hindsight, maybe he should have messaged her about this and not the guy who he has a massive gay crush on.

Fortunately, Evan’s anxiety managed to slap his filter back into action. _Don’t tell him!! He’ll hate you!! He’ll leave you just like everyone else!!_ “I— I don’t know. It just sort of hit me.” At least that was true. Then his filter gave up again: “What made you realize?”

Connor was silent for a long moment— just long enough for Evan to realize what he’d said. He started to open his mouth to apologize, but then Connor blew out a long breath and spoke over Evan’s panic, “I guess I’m pretty obvious.”

“You have a rainbow flag in your bedroom.”

“Oh shit, I forgot about that.”

That made Evan giggle, and he heard Connor huff out a laugh as well.

“I realized when I was eleven though, so, I don’t know what to tell you, Ev. You haven’t missed out on much?” He heard Connor shift. “Being gay in school kind of sucks.”

“Great, that makes me feel loads better,” Evan replied dryly.

“Ha, sorry. Have you told anyone else?”

“I accidentally told Elsie Taylor.”

“Oh is that why you had an anxiety attack? And she was worried you were gonna jump off a bridge?”

“Yep,” Evan popped the ‘p’ and rolled over in bed, sighing. “I don’t know if I should tell my mom.”

“Why? Does she suck?”

Evan snorted. _What an elegant way to ask if someone’s mother is homophobic._ “No, she just worries enough about me already. I mean— probably not _enough_ because she doesn’t know about—” Evan cleared his throat and glanced down to his cast. “Well, some stuff. But she doesn’t need to know about that stuff. She’s got enough on her plate already. She’s already got an anxious and depressed son; we don’t need to add suicidal and gay to the list.”

Connor hummed. “Well, I don’t have anxiety, but I checked the other three boxes and you saw how well my family handles it.”

“They really weren’t that bad.”

“Just a little stepford.”

“Okay, well… _yeah, kind of._ ” Evan huffed while Connor laughed. “You… you never told me how you realized.”

Connor was quiet again, and Evan could hear him moving around. He could imagine he was lying back down and pulling the covers up. Connor let out a long sigh. “I don’t know, Ev. It’s not interesting. I got a crush on a boy.”

Obviously. Is there any other way of figuring it out? Evan wanted to ask who, but he knew that was a bad idea. Even though Connor was talking about when he was eleven, Evan could still feel himself becoming irrationally jealous of whichever boy in their grade managed to get Connor’s attention. Presumably they still went to school with him. “I remember you at eleven,” he said instead.

“Oh, really?” He sounded amused.

“Yeah, you were cute.” _Filter definitely turned off again._

Connor snorted. “Damn, Ev. You think I’m pretty _and_ cute? It’s been a good day for my ego.”

Evan flushed and hid his face in his pillow even though no one could see him. “Shut up,” he grumbled, hoping he wouldn’t say anything else so stupid and obvious.

Connor kept laughing, “Not a chance.” There was a bit of a pause. “Y’know, I remember you at that age too. I um… I noticed. When you left.”

Evan froze. “O-oh.”

“I should have said something.”

“It’s okay.” His voice was small.

“It isn’t,” Connor insisted, and he sounded mad at himself.

Evan shook his head. “I noticed too. Freshman year. I noticed and I didn’t say anything either.” He hated admitting that. Especially now that he knew for sure that he was right. He thought at the time that he’d been projecting his own bullshit onto Connor, and he’d been too anxious and afraid of getting yelled at. He wasn’t any better than everyone else who judged Connor harshly.

“I’m not easy to approach,” Connor excused him. “I probably would have bit your head off.”

Evan managed to crack a smile. “Yeah, but I bet you would have found me in the computer lab later.”

That got a small laugh out of Connor. “Ha, maybe.”

They were quiet for a long time, both imagining a life that could have been. Evan was the first to break the silence. “I didn’t think anyone noticed,” he whispered, not really sure he wanted to say it out loud. “I always thought… I figured no one would ever notice if I just disappeared.”

“I did,” Connor said firmly. “I would.”

“I know.” _And isn’t that something._ “Me too.”

“I know.” He sounded awed too. “Are you gonna be able to sleep now?”

Evan thought about that for a second, but he could still feel the edges of his anxiety waiting for him to hang up the phone so it could attack him again. “Probably not,” he admitted.

“Can I help?”

“Can you…” Evan trailed off, the voice in his head telling him to shut up.

“Just say what you want, Ev.”

 _You._ But he couldn’t say that. “Can you just… speak in French? It’s calming. Not having to process the words.” He definitely wouldn’t have been able to admit that if it wasn’t 2AM.

Connor huffed out a small laugh. “Sure, Ev.”

And then he launched into something that might have been a story. It seemed to have the rhythm of one anyway. Though Connor would sometimes trail off and hum, like he was trying to remember the next part, so maybe it was a personal story then— something from his childhood. Evan didn’t know and he couldn’t. So he closed his eyes and focused only on the cadence of Connor’s voice, how some words seemed to spring from his chest and still others were born on his lips. 

He didn’t realize he was falling asleep until he woke up four hours later.

His alarm blared directly into his ear and Evan had to peel the phone off of his face. When he stopped the alarm there was text waiting for him.

 **Connor:** _figured you were asleep when i said your name a few times and you didn’t answer. i hope this text doesn’t wake you up. call me back if it does. goodnight, ev._

Then he sent a little rainbow flag emoji which was just so cute that Evan had to toss his phone across the bed. But then he had to crawl over to get it back so he could reply.

 **Evan:** _You’re the best._

 **Connor:** _whatever dork. get ready i’ll be there in an hour._

Evan took a quick shower and blow dried his hair even faster. It would be easier if he could just let it air dry like every other teenage boy in existence, but his curly hair always went hay-wire when left to its own devices, and the last thing Evan needed was to go to school with a literal fro. He already felt like everyone was always looking at him, he definitely didn’t need to give the voice in his head _reasons._

When he got downstairs he found his mom had already gone. There was a sticky note on the fridge left in her place. _‘Have a good day, sweetie! I won’t be home until late again. Please remember to eat! ♥’_ It was something she could have just as easily texted him, but Evan had a feeling she felt like she was doing more if she actually wrote it out. There was a twenty pinned right under it, and a second note that read _‘Just in case!’_

Evan opened and closed the fridge with a lot more force than necessary, yanking out the orange juice and drinking it straight from the carton.

He forgot that he’d just brushed his teeth.

He spit the juice back into the carton and made a mental note not to let anyone else drink it. Cursing prolifically (if only Connor could hear him now), Evan rushed over to the sink and poured himself a glass of water, chugging it to try and wash the horrible taste from his mouth. 

_Great way to start the day._

_Well, technically you started the day by coming out to your best friend who you also happen to have a huge crush on._

Evan groaned and hid his face in his hands. Maybe he _should_ change his middle name to Fuckme.

A horn honked from outside and a second later his phone buzzed with a text.

 **Connor:** _It’s me._

He was ten minutes early, but Evan was suddenly anxious to get out of the house as soon as possible, so he was grateful for Connor’s out of character lack of tardiness. He grabbed his bag and locked the door behind him.

Zoe was getting in the back seat when he turned around. “O-oh you don’t have to—” he started.

“Don’t mention it!” She shut the door and Evan took her vacated passenger seat.

Connor studied him before taking his foot off the brake. “Do you remember what happened last night?” he asked.

And, well. It was very tempting to say no. To just pretend everything he said last night was a result of sleep deprivation and he didn’t have a clue what it was. But… he’d also said things he didn’t want to take back. It was important that Connor knew he saw him. And he was looking at him now with so much fear— fear that Evan would take that away from him. He just couldn't lie to him. Not now. “Yes, I remember,” he told him honestly.

Connor let out the breath he’d been holding. “Okay, yeah, you didn’t seem that out of it. Just making sure.”

Zoe spoke up from the backseat, “You two realize that to me it sounds like you had sex last night, right?”

Both boys sputtered incredulously, which probably didn’t help their case, and Zoe just laughed at their expense.

Connor threw the car into reverse and hit the gas so that she would get flung backwards into her seat. “Connor!” she screeched.

He smirked triumphantly and finished pulling out onto the road. “We’re going to Dunkin,” he informed Evan. “Do you drink coffee?” 

“No,” Evan answered, hoping that meant Connor wouldn’t buy him anything.

They pulled up to the drive-thru of the building that looked more like a house than a storefront. If you didn’t know the area it would be easy to drive right past it and never know it was a chain coffee shop and not a residence. The speaker for the drive-thru ordering was on the other side of the parking lot, behind the building, so they sort of had to drive in a weird circle. It was so odd, it always made Evan nervous— like everyone else thought it was normal looking even though it obviously _wasn’t._

“Zo, what do you want?” Connor asked his sister.

The usual,” she answered readily, and Evan glanced back to see most of her attention was focused on her phone.

They got up to the speaker. “Uh yeah, let me get a medium iced latte with hazelnut swirl and skim milk, a medium cold brew… and a medium frozen hot chocolate.” Evan glared at him and Connor pointedly ignored the look as the employee asked if there was anything else. “Yeah, also two breakfast sandwiches, one with bacon, one with turkey sausage, both on bagels—”

“Oh and get me hash browns!” Zoe called.

“Also hash browns,” Connor added without missing a beat. He turned to his sister. “That’s all you’re gonna eat?”

She shrugged. “Donuts?”

He went back to the window. “And a 25 count of munchkins. Whatever you have is fine.”

They read the order back to him and gave the total after Connor confirmed. Once they drove around and the food was all distributed, Evan hit Connor with his sandwich. “You have to stop buying me food.”

He rolled his eyes. “Shut up and eat your breakfast.”

They got to school with plenty of time before the bell since Evan’s house wasn’t far from the high school or the Dunkin. Connor turned the radio up so they could all sit in his car and eat without feeling the need to fill the silence.

Evan very carefully did not touch the box of donuts because there were too many options and he didn’t want to hover over it or accidentally touch one he didn’t want with his sweaty hand and then Zoe and Connor would notice and not want to eat anymore and—

Connor held up a glazed donut for Evan, and he accepted it gratefully. He didn’t look like he could tell Evan had been spiraling, but Evan was pretty sure he knew him well enough by now to have guessed it even if it wasn’t obvious.

“Alright,” Zoe said, crumbling her wrapper and grabbing her coffee. “See you two losers later.” She opened the door.

“Wait! Take the donuts with you!” Connor tried to stop her.

Zoe jumped out of the car. “Nope!” she said brightly, and shut the door in his face.

Connor glared at the still mostly-full box, then reached in and grabbed a chocolate donut for himself and handed Evan a powdered one. Evan ate it carefully so as to not get powder all over himself, and washed it down with the frozen hot chocolate.

“What is it with you and feeding me sugar for breakfast?” he teased.

“Sugar for breakfast is the best way to live,” Connor answered flippantly. “That’s why it was so great being a kid. They get all the sugary cereals.”

“Cinnamon Toast Crunch,” Evan mourned.

Connor groaned in a way that would definitely be appearing in Evan's dreams for the next century. “Oh my _god,_ yes! Do you remember Cocoa Puffs?”

Evan grinned. “Why am I not at all surprised that you ate Cocoa Puffs?”

“It turned it into chocolate milk!” He sounded like a little kid and Evan couldn’t help but laugh. “I would still eat it now if my mom wasn’t insane.”

“That doesn’t stop you from hoarding candy and soda in your room,” Evan pointed out fairly.

“I feel like having a gallon of milk in there would be taking it too far though.”

Without Zoe there, Evan was relaxed enough to take a jelly donut. He chewed it thoughtfully as he looked out the window to the gray clouds. “I hope it doesn’t rain,” he whispered, and just as he did the sky opened up and water drops splattered against the windshield, starting out slow and quickly building into a downpour.

“I guess there’s no avoiding the cafeteria today.”

Evan frowned at the distance he’d have to cross to get to school doors. “I don’t have an umbrella.”

“Guess we’ll have to run it.” Connor leaned behind him and grabbed his bag so that he wouldn’t have to waste time getting wet when opening the back seat. Evan picked up his bag from his feet but kept it in his arms, planning to shield his homework with his body. Connor looked at him, placing a hand on his door handle. “Ready?”

The rain was coming in sideways sheets from the direction they had to go. “No.”

“Let’s go.” Connor threw open his door and Evan scrambled to follow, jumping out and slamming the door shut behind him quickly to stop more water from getting in. His pants legs were already wet from the puddle he’d landed in and his shirt was getting heavier by the second.

Connor grabbed his uninjured hand and dragged him towards the school. “Come on! Run!” he shouted over the thunder and rain.

The water kicked up around their ankles as they sprinted, soaking them up to their knees and down to their socks. They didn’t slow down until they were safely inside. The thunder roared around them, shaking the school.

Evan reached up to his hair in dismay. It was completely wet again and would no doubt dry into a curly uncontrolled heap. So much for all that time he’d spent with the blow dryer this morning. “Oh no,” he let out, unable to stop his lip from jutting out childishly.

Connor grimaced in sympathy and rang out his own long curly hair, adding to the puddle that was already forming around him. He ran his fingers through it and Evan could already tell they were going to dry in perfectly sleek locks— nothing like his own frizzy disaster. 

They headed towards his locker and Evan tried desperately to keep running his hands through his hair like he would with a brush, hoping in vain that it might do _something._ When they got to his locker he forewent his books in favor of grabbing the spare change of clothes he’d kept in there since freshman year.

Connor raised a brow. “You keep clothes in your locker?”

“I have anxiety. I live in constant fear of nightmare scenarios.” He grabbed the extra pair of shoes and socks shoved at the bottom as well. “Besides, it’s coming in handy now.”

“I guess so.” Connor followed him to the bathroom and promised to stand outside and keep anyone else from coming in so Evan wouldn't have to worry about trying to change in the small stall.

Evan emerged a few minutes later, much drier than Connor, but now only in jeans and a t-shirt— a far cry from his usual khakis and polo. He deposited those unceremoniously into his locker and turned around to look his friend up and down.

“I feel like a drowned rat,” Connor deadpanned, shifting his feet slightly. Thankfully his boots were waterproof and his socks were dry, but his jeans had already been tight enough before getting soaked, and he looked more uncomfortable in them by the second— at least they were black and it wasn’t so noticeable. His gray t-shirt and hoodie though were obviously clinging to his skin, making Evan realize just how _toned_ Connor was underneath all those layers.

_Not now, gay thoughts._

He bit his lip involuntarily and then corrected the movement just as quickly, hoping Connor didn’t notice him checking him out. “More like a drowned dog?” he tried to sound encouraging.

Connor snorted out a laugh and reached out to push Evan’s face away. “Hopefully I’ll dry in an hour like a retriever,” he quipped, shaking his head out like a dog and spraying Evan with little drops of water.

Evan wrinkled his nose and wiped at his cheek. “At least you won’t look like a poodle in an hour.” He made a jerky gesture towards his head.

Connor laughed and reached up to ruffle Evan’s hair. Evan did his level best not to lean into the touch. _God, you’re pathetic._

“What kind of dog would you be?” Connor tilted his head, scanning Evan like he was trying to figure it out himself.

Evan scrunched his face up. “I don’t know? Aren’t dogs supposed to be, like, sociable? I’d be a garbage dog.”

Connor snapped his fingers. “Spaniel, definitely.”

“But like, one that got left on the side of the road, right?”

He flicked Evan’s forehead. “Stop it.”

 _Right. Keep your abandonment issues to yourself, Evan._ “What kind of dog would you be then?”

Connor didn’t miss a beat. “Fucking Pitbull.”

“So… gets a bad rap for being scary but is actually just a massive sweetheart?” Evan grinned up at him, rocking forward onto his toes.

Connor shook his head, though he was unable to hide his smile. “I will not be mocked by someone wearing _spirit wear,_ ” he deflected, looking pointedly at Evan’s bright red t-shirt that proclaimed him to be a supporter of Penfield High School. “Since when do you own anything that isn’t blue?” 

Evan rolled his eyes and pretended that that comment wasn’t going to stick in his head for the rest of the day. “This from the boy who has never worn a color a day in his life.”

“Black is a color!”

“Black is literally the absence of color.”

“Gray then.”

“Gray is just _light_ black.”

Connor snorted. “ _Diet_ black.”

Evan laughed along with him and then subconsciously folded his arms around his stomach, trying to hide the bright red shirt. It was just such a _loud_ color. People were going to notice him now. People were going to look at him. Why did he even keep this stupid shirt in his locker? What was the point in keeping a spare shirt to avoid stain-caused anxiety attacks if the spare shirt was just going to give him an anxiety attack anyway? _Stupid stupid stupid—_

“Hey,” Connor tapped his elbow and Evan jerked up, realizing he had literally folded in on himself. “C’mere.” He took Evan’s hand, forcing him to unfold at least one of his arms, and led him a little ways down the hall to what must have been his own locker though Evan had never seen him use it.

Connor unlocked it quickly enough for Evan to gather that he must use it _sometimes_ if he remembered the combination that easily. The inside was not unlike his bedroom and his schoolbag, scattered with random books and papers and the occasional chip bag. But hanging on the hook was another gray hoodie; Connor grabbed it and handed it to Evan.

Evan blinked up at him. “Don’t— don’t you want to wear that? Cos yours is wet?”

Connor shrugged. “It’ll dry. Your shirt isn’t going to get less red.”

Evan bit his lip, eyes flickering between the hoodie and its owner. This was stupid. He shouldn’t need to take Connor’s only dry hoodie for something as stupid as _his shirt being red._ He’s being stupid and pathetic and useless and if he takes that hoodie Connor is going to _know that._ This is a test. Connor is testing him. To see if he really is as helpless as he thought. Evan should just get over it and wear the stupid red shirt without _worrying—_

“Ev,” Connor pushed the hoodie into his arms. “Please just wear it. You’ll feel better.”

And Evan couldn’t really argue with that. He traded his bookbag for the hoodie and put it on. It was a bit too big for him, but that worked out well for his cast. He zipped the jacket all the way up to his neck to hide his shirt. He breathed in deeply (breathed in Connor) and instantly felt better.

“I’m sorry I mentioned the shirt,” Connor said awkwardly, handing him back his bag.

“I was already thinking it before you said anything,” Evan admitted. “It’s not your fault.”

“Still, that was a dick move.”

“You didn’t mean to be.”

“Evan.”

He huffed. “Fine. Thank you. I accept your apology. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to walk on eggshells around me. I’m fine with being teased. I know you don’t mean it like that.” Evan pulled at the sleeve over his right hand until it hid it completely.

Connor was fighting an amused grin. “Well fine if it means that much to you, I will continue to tease you.”

Evan rolled his eyes, aware that his face was red because well… there was definitely double meaning in that. He was a teenage boy after all. But then, so was Connor. And he was a bit pink… _Did he hear it too?_

Thank god the bell rang before Evan could dwell too much on _that_ image.

They got to their first class and shuffled to the back row, though Connor didn't sit after putting his bag in the chair, instead taking out his make-up homework and holding his hand out for Evan’s. “I’ll bring it up to her,” he said, leaving out the _‘so you don’t have to walk in front of the class and talk to an adult.’_

He nodded gratefully and pulled his folder out, flipping to the homework tab and opening the rings to pull the pages out. Connor looked as amused now as he did yesterday at seeing how organized Evan was, though he didn’t mention it since he’d already gotten the stuttered explanation about anxiety and OCD.

Evan watched Connor walk to the front of the class, his shoulders hunched defensively right up until Mrs. Cartwright turned around, then he straightened out considerably, handing over the papers and saying something (probably sarcastic) that made her laugh. She put the papers aside and asked a question, and Connor nodded as he replied. 

Evan really wished he could see his face. Mrs. Cartwright turned to start writing something on the board while he talked, and he moved to lean casually against her desk, next to her chair. He flipped his hair out of his face and she laughed again, turning around to make a comment that made him duck his head and mutter something else.

He looked so at peace. Evan had only seen that level of comfort on Connor a few times, and it rarely ever lasted long— so easily broken by the presence of another human being or a reminder of the outside world. He trusted so few people, and the second even the barest hint was made of anyone else coming close, he closed off again. Clearly, Mrs. Cartwright had already proven herself to be worthy of knowing him. She’d already seen all his worst parts and she hadn’t run or told him he was bad or wrong. She’d stood her ground and said that he was worth saving.

Evan only hoped he could be the same.

When Connor turned back around he was smiling— not one of those rare bright smiles with teeth that made Evan feel like he was dying (in a good way), but still a smile… soft and subtle and _real._ Connor Murphy was the realest person Evan had ever known. They made eye contact from across the room and Evan couldn’t help but return the smile.

That is until a wad of paper crashed into the side of his temple and he was looking around to see who had thrown it. No one was looking at him though, and Evan glanced back to Connor to see his expression had darkened considerably, cold eyes glaring around the room in search of the culprit. He stomped back to their desks just as Evan was picking up the paper ball and unraveling it.

 **_FUCKING_ ** **_FAGS_ **

It was written in bolded black sharpie, the second word bigger than the first and underlined angrily. Evan turned red, hands shaking and eyes filling with tears. He looked up as Connor tore the paper from his hands, only glancing at it before curling it back into a ball and hurling it across the room towards the wastepaper basket.

Evan felt himself curling into a ball just like the paper. He felt like the word had been branded across his body and it was all he could do to pull his knees to his chest and bury his face, hiding whatever the note-writer had seen. They saw Evan for what he was and they _hated_ it. They _hated him._

Distantly he heard Connor screaming at the class, but he couldn’t focus on the words. His world was crashing in on him and _couldn’t breathe._ His chest was so tight and the tears wouldn’t stop coming and he wasn’t even hyperventilating because he was just _so fucking sad._ The self hatred was coming in from all sides and he just wanted to shrivel up and cease to exist. Connor was beside him, projecting it all outwards, defending Evan and himself, and all Evan could do was sit there and cry because he was _useless and pathetic. Useless. Pathetic. Useless useless useless. Pathetic pathetic pathetic and—_

Someone else was yelling now, a female voice, and a hand was landing on his shoulder and Evan whimpered, desperate for _someone, anyone, anything_ to pull him from his own head. Two hands encircled his wrists and he realized he’d been punching himself, fists endlessly battering into his thighs, physically fighting against himself. 

“Evan, Evan, Evan,” someone was repeating his name, pulling his hands away from his body and demanding he stop hurting himself. “Evan, look at me, please.”

And the voice struck some part of his brain that could still feel anything other than self loathing. He looked up through the tears blurring his vision and focused on Connor, wide blue eyes staring back at him. Evan heard a sob claw its way out of his chest and he choked on it, viscerally aware of the salt water and mucus forming trails down his red and puffy face. “Please,” he let out, not really sure what he was asking for, but knowing he needed it. 

“Okay,” Connor said, and apparently he knew what it was because the next thing Evan knew he was being lifted from his seat and carried out of the room. Distantly he could hear Mrs. Cartwright still yelling at the rest of the class as they quietly slipped out.

Evan felt himself be put down a few seconds later, though the arms remained wrapped around him. He managed to look up and was surprised to find a couch underneath him. Surrounding them was a small space with a counter and a few tables and chairs, and what appeared to be a private bathroom. They were in the math teachers’ lounge. This must be what the other door in Mrs. Cartwright’s room led to.

He was still curled into Connor’s chest, using the other boy’s heartbeat to calm his own, even though Connor’s wasn’t much slower, really. He was still obviously worked up, his hands curling into Evan’s shirt and pants leg with a lot more force than was really comforting.

“I’m—” Evan started, but then quickly realized that speech was not something he was capable of at the moment. Instead he took a deep breath and focused on counting in his head. The sums were arbitrary, but they were something other than panic and self-hatred.

Connor was still talking, but it was completely in French. Though Evan could tell it was not like the easy story from last night. He was still ranting angrily, but he was censoring that anger from Evan by using his other tongue. 

Evan reached up, wanting to erase the anger from his eyes. He ran a hand over his cheek and through his hair, attempting to say something even though he couldn’t say anything. Connor’s words abruptly stopped as his eyes found Evan’s again. His features softened, remembering the other human in his arms.

He reached out too, brushing the remaining tears from Evan’s cheeks. He cupped his face, setting him with a serious but still caring look. “Fuck those guys,” he said firmly.

Evan nodded once, and then a few more times as his brow drew together in defiance. They were both coming down from their initial reactions now, both beginning to be able to process the series of unfortunate events that led to this. And what Evan was realizing is that it was all just _bullshit._

“Fuck those guys,” he repeated, and his voice was still small but the words were anything but weak. One of the perks of being someone who never cursed was that it always meant something when he did.

“They ruin everything,” Connor growled, hands tightening around Evan again.

And Evan realized feeding Connor’s anger was not the best approach at this point. He was too defensive. If Evan gave him another reason to snap, he would. And the panic attack was already enough. “Hey,” he said quietly, tugging on Connor’s hoodie string. “Look at me, please.”

And once again they found balance in each other’s eyes. Connor took a deep breath, the last flickering flames dying out in Evan’s gaze. They both thought about saying something, about trying to put it all into words, but it was too daunting a task for right now.

“Do you want tea?” Connor asked suddenly.

Evan had to blink a few times to process that. “Uh?”

“I’m gonna make us tea,” he decided, shifting Evan off of him so that he could stand up and make his way over to the counter where Evan could now see an electric kettle. He opened a cabinet and found the tea immediately— clearly he’d been in this room before, and he was comfortable enough in it to help himself to the appliances and the pantry.

Evan shook his head. “Okay,” he let out, and then looked to the ajar door that was labeled with a toilet. He remembered that he still had snot and tears dried to his face, and after a few seconds of wondering if it would be alright, the desire to look like slightly less of a complete mess won out. 

He ducked inside the bathroom and made a concentrated effort to not look in the mirror until he was sure he’d wiped off the majority of the gunk. There was no need to supply his already self-loathing and anxious brain with the image of what he looked like. He already knew he was a mess, he didn’t need pictures as proof.

The pain of the new bruises he’d made on his thighs was starting to make itself known now that the adrenaline was wearing off. He looked down to see that one of his scars had opened up and dotted the top of his jeans with blood, but it wasn’t enough to be noticeable if you weren’t looking for it, so Evan hurriedly pulled Connor’s hoodie down and told himself that would have to be good enough. These were already his back up pants. Thank god they were dark wash.

He went back out and shoved himself into the sofa, curling up again, still feeling raw and exposed and vulnerable.

Connor appeared in front of him, holding out a Penfield High School branded mug that smelled strongly of peppermint. “Drink this,” he ordered, and Evan’s hands went out obediently because he was good at following orders after panic attacks. Orders did not require his brain to be fully functional (not that it ever was).

Connor sat down and Evan instantly fell into his side, needing the human contact to help ground him back into reality. His brain still felt fuzzy, like he was only just barely holding on right now. He sipped the tea and focused on the flavors. He inhaled deeply and sorted through what was Connor and what was tea and what was the room and what was him. He ordered them into lists.

_Connor: old spice body wash, lavender shampoo, musk, pine needles, spearmint, coffee, faint traces of weed and ash, something sweet like chocolate._

That felt important. Evan repeated the scents to himself over and over again, bringing each one into focus one at a time. It was far more effective than any breathing exercise he ever learned in therapy. When the cup was nearly empty he felt like he could speak again. “I’m sorry I freaked out.”

“What did I say about apologizing for things you can’t control?” Connor said sternly. He took their empty mugs and placed them on the floor. “Besides, I freaked out too. And my freak outs are a lot scarier for everyone else than yours are.”

Evan tried to remember what Connor had said or done but he drew a blank. “I didn’t see— or hear.”

Connor shook his head. “I don’t remember much. And once Mrs. Cartwright pointed out that you were crying, I just became singularly focused on you. She took over the yelling for me.”

 _The whole class saw you break down. Everyone knows what a mess you are now. If anyone was fooled by the shitty attempt you were making to appear halfway normal before, they certainly aren’t buying it now._ Evan squeezed his eyes shut and physically pushed at the air near his head, trying to get the voice to shut up. “She— did— did she see the note?”

“Yeah, my aim wasn’t that great.”

Evan took a deep breath. He knew for a fact that that was not the first note of its kind that Connor had ever seen. Evan had watched kids throw balls of paper with crude words written inside at Connor since they were in middle school. Connor had long since stopped freaking out at them. The angry outbursts from eighth grade have simmered into quiet rage, cold glares, and clenched fists. The only thing that was different this time was Evan. “I know you wouldn’t have reacted that strongly if it wasn’t for me. I’m sorry.”

Connor stared at him incredulously. “You’re sorry that I want to defend you?”

 _No, that’s one of the many reasons why I want to be next to you every second,_ Evan couldn’t say. He shook his head instead. “I’m sorry that I’m so pathetic and useless that you feel like you have to.”

Connor’s jaw clenched. “Well, first off, you’re not pathetic or useless and I’ve never thought that and I never will. You’ve put up with more shit than all of the entitled motherfuckers in this godforsaken school and you're still fucking _alive?_ That’s incredible, Ev. And I know we’ve only been friends for like a week but I’ve _always_ thought that about you. You’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

Evan remembered the pills in seventh grade and the cuts and bruises on his legs and climbing that tree and just… letting go. And all the other times. Giving up. Over and over. “I’m really not,” he whispered. “I’m not strong enough to fight back.”

“As someone who has done nothing but fight their entire life, I promise it only makes it worse,” Connor said darkly. “Because I can scream and punch and yell and shove but it doesn’t _do_ anything. They still come back tomorrow and say the same shit and it still hurts just as much as it did the day before.”

Evan considered this. His complacency with his own bullies just meant they could keep going without any consequences. He was labeled a crybaby and an easy target. And he just went home and took out all his anger on himself. 

But Connor’s explosions turned him into a spectacle, like a trapped animal at a zoo, tortured with fire for entertainment, labeled dangerous and psychotic. And he only ended up hurting himself too. 

“Maybe neither of us were handling it the right way.”

Connor’s eyes bore into his, looking for the answer. “What is the right way then?”

Evan reached out and took Connor’s hand in his. “Together.”

Connor’s breath caught in his throat and he squeezed Evan’s hand tightly, like he was afraid to let go. “Together,” he repeated, and it sounded like a prayer.

Evan smiled as much as he was able to. He was exhausted now, the lack of sleep last night mixed with all the anxiety of the morning and topped off with a panic attack. “Thank you for taking care of me,” he whispered. “No one’s ever done that before.” And then he rested his head against Connor’s shoulder and let his eyes slide shut.

Connor chuckled lightly, though it sounded kind of sad. “Anytime, Ev,” he whispered back. “Thank you for trusting me.”

Evan nodded sleepily, quickly losing the ability to form sentences again. He felt Connor shift under him, and then he was being laid out on the couch, head pillowed at a more comfortable angle on Connor’s lap. A small part of his brain reminded him that he was still at school and he still had classes to go to, but he ignored it in favor of the tempting pull of sleep.

He couldn’t have been asleep long before he was waking up, catching the last half-second of the bell that had invaded his dream. He kept his eyes firmly closed, unwilling to re-enter the world of the living. He felt the hand in his hair pet him gently, urging him back to sleep, and if Connor wasn’t moving, well, Evan wasn’t going to be the one to pop this little bubble of peace they’d managed to form.

No, that job was down to whoever was opening the door. Evan whined, still mostly asleep, and nuzzled more firmly into Connor’s leg.

“Hey,” the third person started softly, it was a male voice, vaguely familiar, but Evan couldn’t place it.

“What do you want, Kleinman?” Connor demanded, but he spoke quietly, under the impression that Evan was still asleep. 

“To bring you your bags,” Jared replied, and it was sarcastic— more obviously him than the soft ‘hey’ had been. Evan heard the sound of their bags dropping to the floor, then there was a long pause wherein the boys seemed to be sizing each other up. Evan’s brain still wasn’t working fully, and all he could think was that he hoped Connor wouldn’t stand up.

“Is—” Jared shuffled around awkwardly, clearing his throat. “Is he okay?”

“Why should you care?” Connor snapped.

“Because he’s—” Jaded cut himself off, and Evan heard him lean against the nearest table. “Look, I know I’m an asshole, but I still care, alright? A lot of scary shit happened in middle school and— He’s—”

“You know what happened in seventh grade?” Connor asked, and Evan was glad he did because he was thinking the same thing.

“Do you?” Jared shot back incredulously, and Connor must have nodded because he went on. “I’m not, uh, supposed to? My mom told me. She works at the hospital with his mom. We hadn’t even spoken to each other since like fifth grade at that point but… I don’t know. It’s scary.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Connor’s voice was cold. “You knew that he tried to _kill himself_ and your solution was to keep him at arm’s length and constantly insist you aren’t real friends?”

“I was thirteen!” Jared snapped defensively. “I was stupid and I was scared and I didn’t know what to say! ‘Sorry I abandoned you’? ‘Let’s be friends again because I really don’t want you to die’?”

“Yes! Yeah, that would be about a thousand times fucking better, Kleinman. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jared groaned loudly.

“Shut up you’re going to wake him.”

“Shit, sorry.”

There was another pause and Evan was sure they were staring at him. He hid his face in Connor’s leg, pulling his arm up to use the loose sleeve to disappear further. He didn’t know how to take Jared’s admission. It wasn't even said to him. And he still really wanted to just go back to sleep.

Jared spoke again after a minute, “Mrs. Cartwright called Coach Freeman, so you don’t have to go to second period.”

“I figured,” Connor replied, and he ran his hand absently through Evan’s hair again, pushing it out of his face like he wanted him to stop hiding.

“Are you two…?” Jared drifted off.

“We’re friends,” Connor said firmly.

Jared always pushed things. “That’s all?” And Connor must have glared at him because Jared cackled. “All I’m saying is there’s not many friends who would go batshit protective at an entire class and then literally fucking _carry_ them out of the room.”

“Fuck off, Kleinman.”

“I always suspected Evan was gay.”

“That’s not really your fucking place,” Connor snapped, back on Evan’s defense.

Jared just laughed again. “Whatever, dude. I’m just saying. You’d be good for each other.”

The second bell rang before Connor could reply, and Jared stood back up. “And now I’m late,” he said, making his way to the door. “See you two losers later.” As always, completely incapable of not being antagonistic. The door shut behind him.

Connor shoved at Evan’s side. “Alright, I know you’re awake, asshole.”

Evan smirked and rolled so that he was more firmly hidden in Connor’s hip. “Nu-uh,” he insisted cheekily. “I didn’t hear your heart-to-heart with Jared Kleinman, I swear.” He peeked up at him and Connor looked wholly unimpressed as Evan giggled.

“Heart-to-heart my ass,” Connor grumbled. “He was the one acting like this was a confessional. The only thing I told him is that he’s an idiot.”

Evan sat up at that, frowning as he remembered Jared’s vague and broken retelling of seventh grade. “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do with that.”

“You don’t have to do anything with that,” Connor answered. “He doesn’t even know you heard it.”

“But I did,” Evan protested.

“That doesn’t excuse how he’s treated you. He’s not thirteen anymore.”

Evan managed to snort. “You sure about that?”

Connor rolled his eyes. He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted as the door opened again and Alana Beck walked through it. They both turned to stare at her.

“Hi guys!” she said brightly, like this was a completely normal scenario for the three of them to be in. “Coach Freeman asked if anyone could bring you two the work from today and since I have Cartwright this period I volunteered. I would have anyway, but this certainly made it easier!” She bounced over to them, holding two stapled print-outs of some article, with a sticky-note on top telling them what chapters to read for make-up and which pages were assigned for homework. Connor took them when he saw Evan grab anxiously onto the edge of the borrowed hoodie, tugging it down instead of tying it into knots.

“Th-thanks, Alana,” Evan said, voice barely above a whisper.

“No problem!” She turned to Connor. “Should I get your work in French next period too? And Evan, I can stop by Señora Reyes’s room if you want?”

Connor shook his head for both of them as Evan tried to figure out why Alana Beck knew his schedule. “ _Non, merci. Je serais là._ ” Connor answered distractedly, not seeming to fully realize he was speaking in French— like a switch in his brain had gotten flipped as soon as Alana had mentioned the class.

Alana took a little longer to reply than normal (meaning she actually didn’t speak over them for once) as she had to translate in her head. “Okay! Wow, you really are fluent. We should totally study together sometime.” She was always so perfectly polite it was impossible to tell if she was ever being genuine. Connor just gave a sort of half-hearted hum in reply, as carefully indifferent as ever, but Alana smiled like he had agreed. “Great! Well, I’ll see you two later!” She flouced out of the room.

Connor looked at him. “We could go out there and join the second period calculus class, stay in here and do the Euro work, or go back to sleep.”

As tired as he still was, Evan knew he wouldn’t be able to make his brain shut off now, not since the panic attack had truly worn off and there was nothing demanding he pass out. But he wasn’t quite ready to rejoin high school yet either. So instead he took the papers from Connor and asked him to get his history textbook from his bag.

They moved to the table and sat in comfortable silence for the rest of the period as they took notes and annotated, occasionally broken by inane comments Connor made as he got distracted— at one point getting up to make more tea because he claimed his brain would explode if he stared at that book for a second longer. 

“Do you ever just get like, randomly worried about the hole in the ozone layer?” he asked randomly, to which Evan scoffed because _of course he did._ A concerning event that didn’t directly or immediately affect him and which he had zero power to control? _And_ it was related to the environment? Evan’s masochistic brain was _all over that._

“Connor, I’m _me,_ ” he said dryly. “The hole in the ozone layer is like my number one concern at least six times a day.”

And Connor full on cackled at that, leaning back in his chair until his feet left the ground. Evan blushed because, well that’s what Evan does, but he could also feel the last remaining dregs of anxiety slipping away with the sound of Connor’s laughter. It was so bright; _Connor was so bright._ And Evan was once again struck by how beautiful he was. How could the rest of the world not see this? How had Evan gone so long without him? Connor settled something in his chest, filling a hole that Evan had always known was there, but had long since accepted would never be filled.

The bell rang before Evan could say something stupid like, _I think you’re my soulmate._

They steeled themselves before opening the door that would lead into the hallway— back into the crowd of sadistic teenagers who were all too willing to throw bricks at them. Evan found himself standing just slightly behind Connor— an instinct forming now from how many times he’d protected him.

When they got to the Spanish classroom, Evan went onto his toes and pulled Connor into an impulsive hug. He didn’t give himself time to think about it. He just needed to hug this boy so badly and the need overtook the anxiety for once.

“Thank you,” he mumbled into Connor’s neck as the taller boy’s arms went around his waist. “For everything.”

Connor didn’t answer, just held him closer.

And it was wonderful for a few seconds, until the anxiety wriggled back into his brain and informed him that people were _looking seeing judging,_ and he had to pull back. “See you at lunch,” he said, though it was more of a reminder to himself than to Connor. The thing he needed to say in order to let go.

“Yeah, see you, Ev.” Connor squeezed his hip one last time before turning and falling into the crowd.

Evan took a deep breath before entering the classroom, determined to get through this. Someone was going to say something. By now the entire school knew that Connor Murphy and Evan Hansen freaked out in first period. By now everyone had figured out that he was gay for his best friend. Connor would probably be informed of Evan’s feelings for him in French. Evan could only hope Connor didn’t take his anger at him out on anyone else. _You’re gonna lose him. He’s gone. You’re never gonna see him again._

“Hey, Evan.” Evan’s head whipped around at the sound of Jared’s voice. He was sitting at the back of the class where Evan normally sat. “Saved you a seat, buddy.” 

_Buddy._

Evan’s feet moved on autopilot. Isn’t he supposed to be mad at Jared? They fought yesterday. Jared doesn’t know Evan heard him talking to Connor earlier. Should he confess? Should he pretend to still be angry? Evan’s head was spinning already and he was glad there was a chair to fall into. “Uh,” he started eloquently. Maybe he wasn’t vocal yet. Maybe that was only with Connor.

“Don’t worry, I got you covered,” Jared said, emphasizing his point by glaring at a girl who had turned around in her seat to stare curiously at Evan. “I may not be a guard dog but I’m at least like… a guard duck.”

That surprised a small laugh out of Evan. Maybe he’d never get a proper apology from Jared, but he’d never been naive enough to expect one. In a way, this was Jared apologizing. Between ‘buddy’ and ‘I got you’ and an acceptance of Connor poorly disguised as a joke— Evan could read between the lines. He was sorry, and the only way Jared knew how to say that was to make up for it.

Jared gave him a crooked smile. “We good?”

Evan nodded, sighing. “Yeah, we’re good.” They’d known each other practically their entire lives. Some things didn’t need to be said out loud.

And when that class ended Jared made a point to walk with Evan to the music room even though his next class was on the other side of the school. And Evan was nice enough not to mention it, and Jared was nice enough not to pretend to complain about it.

When he was at his piano he finally gathered the courage to look at his phone. There were a number of unread messages.

 **Connor:** _beck was apparently serious about the studying thing. she just made me give her my number._

 **Connor:** _in related news i have found the one thing alana beck is not good at: conjugating verbs._

 **Connor:** _she has shown me her google calendar, evan. it’s terrifying. imagine having that many obligations? i’d rather die._

 **Connor:** _not that that’s saying much loll_

 **Connor:** _too dark?_

 **Connor:** _i’m forced to assume you’re either not allowed to have your phone in this class or you’re avoiding your phone all together._

 **Connor:** _or me._

 **Connor:** _but that would be really fucking stupid._

 **Connor:** _alana noticed me glaring and informed me that reyes doesn’t allow phones._

 **Connor:** _sorry._

Evan clutched at his chest at the mini panic that had caused, silently thanking the Lord for Alana Beck. He hastily replied, making the executive decision to brush over Connor’s momentary episode. He could bring it up in person later. Over text was not the place to say important things like ‘I’m not actually physically capable of staying away from you anymore, Connor.’

 **Evan:** _Jared was nice to me too. He sort of apologized._

 **Connor:** _sort of?_

 **Evan:** _In the most Jared way possible._

 **Connor:** _so… like an asshole?_

 **Evan:** _No!_

 **Evan:** _Idk, just, casual. I appreciated it actually. I don’t think I could handle any more heavy stuff today._

 **Evan:** _He did walk me to class though._

 **Connor:** _ALANA BECK DID TOO???_

 **Connor:** _I'M PRETTY SURE HER CLASS IS ON A DIFFERENT FLOOR????_

 **Connor:** _BUT SHE JUST STUCK NEXT TO ME???? GOING ON ABOUT THE FRENCH HOMEWORK AND THEN SOMETHING ABOUT HER DEAD GRANDMA??????_

 **Connor:** _IS THIS NORMAL HUMAN BEHAVIOR???????????????_

Evan snorted at the sheer amount of question marks.

 **Evan:** _You’re asking the wrong person._

 **Connor:** _heh._

 **Connor:** _do you think they’re like conspiring or something?_

 **Evan:** _Who?_

 **Connor:** _kleinman and beck_

 **Evan:** _Conspiring to do what?_

 **Connor:** _i dunno_

 **Connor:** _nefarious deeds_

 **Evan:** _omg_

 **Connor:** _you did not just type “omg”_

 **Evan:** _What’s wrong with omg??_

 **Connor:** _lol_

 **Evan:** _Why is ‘lol’ okay but ‘omg’ isn’t? What are these arbitrary rules you’re making up?_

 **Connor:** _LOLL_

 **Evan:** _omg_

An Instagram notification obscured Evan’s screen and he accidentally clicked on it, finding a new message thread started by **@zoemurphy**.

 **@zoemurphy:** _I heard what happened this morning. I hope you’re okay. Connor said you are but I still wanted to check in and he wouldn’t give me your number. Anyway, let me know if I need to punch someone for you guys. I totally will._

Evan also found that Zoe had followed him. He followed her back even though it made him feel weird, Matt’s comment from yesterday echoing around in the back of his head. He carefully didn’t look at any of her photos before replying.

 **@dearevanhansen:** _Thanks, Zoe. We’re okay. No punching necessary haha_

Then, because curiosity was a thing, and Evan’s brain was a masochist, he went into Zoe’s following list (which was much shorter than her followers list) and found her brother amongst them, **@not_connor**.

His following was a fraction of his sister’s and he had far fewer photos, but what was there was very on brand. A few random blurry landscapes from their family vacations, pictures of books he’d finished— captioned with short passionate reviews, some of his artwork, skateboarding videos (that Evan found himself mesmerized by), and smoking videos (that Evan also found himself staring at, mouth hung open slightly as he discovered new levels of attraction that he didn’t know he was capable of feeling). He managed to wipe the drool off of his chin and click follow. 

A second later his phone buzzed with a new text.

 **Connor:** _why tf are you on instagram?_

 **Evan:** _Zoe messaged me on there._

 **Connor:** _of course she did_

Evan waited for Connor to follow him back, and he was a little disappointed when the notification didn’t come… until he went back onto the app and realized Connor had already been following him. Brow furrowing, he scrolled through his notifications, expecting to see it from sometime this week, but nothing showed up. Which meant that Connor had followed him before they’d met.

He… did not know what to do with that information.

It was weird that he hadn’t noticed? He didn’t have a lot of followers to begin with. Just the random people at school who followed everyone (mostly girls) and the niche group of strangers who liked pictures of trees (as that’s all Evan’s instagram was). He must have gotten the notification at some point and not put together that it was someone he knew.

Worrying slightly, Evan scrolled through his not-at-all curated profile, wondering if there was anything too embarrassing on there. But it was just four years worth of trees (and other random plants). His face made an appearance all of six times— the rare occasion that a photo was taken of him that he didn’t immediately despise. He didn’t look at them now for fear that he’d find something wrong and inflate it until he had to hit delete.

_Why on Earth did Connor follow him?_

He went back to Connor’s profile and confirmed that he didn’t follow many people, and very few of those people went to their school. It was just him and what appeared to be a few of the girls in his art class. The rest of the list was comprised of his interests: bands, art, weed, books, skateboarding, and memes. Evan did not fit into any of those categories.

_Maybe he just likes your tree pictures?_

Evan didn’t realize how much he was overthinking this until the bell rang and he grasped that he’d spent the entire period scrolling through instagram. It was a good thing the teacher knew he was already an expert pianist and most of the class goofed off anyway.

As he made his way to his locker another feeling settled in his gut: _guilt._ He’d told Connor last night that he noticed him, but clearly he hadn’t. Not in any way that mattered. When had Connor followed him? Had that been him reaching out? And Evan had _ignored_ him? Didn’t even notice that he was there at all? Had he always been so caught up in his own self-pitying _bullshit—_

“Hey,” Connor said, and Evan snapped up to find himself standing at his locker. Connor’s brow furrowed. “You okay?”

“Uh— yeah. Uh, yeah.” Evan mentally slapped himself, huffing out a frustrated breath. “Yes. Fine. I’m.” _Ugh._

“Okay…” Connor didn’t look at all convinced, but he seemed to put together that Evan didn’t want to talk about it. He changed the subject to more pressing matters, “Well, it’s still pouring outside and I couldn’t even manage to get a spare second to make us lunch. So… cafeteria’s our only option till next week.”

“What happens next week?”

Connor gave him a weird look. “Senior privileges kick in? We’re allowed to leave campus for lunch.”

 _Oh, right._ That went to show how much Evan believed he was even going to make it to senior year. Not that those privileges even applied to him anyway. He still couldn’t get behind the wheel of a car without having a panic attack.

“You seem far away,” Connor observed, looking worried again. “Are you mad?” He shoved his hands in his pockets, closing himself off.

Evan squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to get his mind back into his body. “No, no, of course not,” he let out quickly. He gestured weirdly with his hand, trying to physically claw his way back to reality. He wasn’t panicking, but the voice in his head was so _loud_ and he couldn’t block it out.

_You’re not good enough. You’ll never be good enough. Useless and pathetic. Everyone knows. Everyone knows that you’re a waste of space. You’re not even real. You barely exist. What’s the point? You don’t matter. Nothing matters._

“Ev.” Connor’s hands landed on his shoulders. “Hey, look at me, please.” 

Evan forced his eyes open and met Connor’s. Blue has always been his favorite color. It was calming. He’d always thought of blue as a passive color. But Connor’s eyes were anything but passive. He looked back at Evan with an intensity that could pull him back from the darkest recesses of his mind. Blue was still calming, but it was an entirely new kind of calm. It wasn’t an acceptance of his tragic fate, it was a belief that he didn’t have to accept this. That maybe there was something worth fighting for. Something beautiful on the other side of the horizon. If he just held on… 

Evan let out a little gasp, grabbing onto Connor’s arms. “Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry.”

“None of that,” Connor waved him off, slinging an arm around his shoulders and gently guiding him down the hall, allowing Evan to lean into him. “I’m gonna tell you about Alana Beck and you don’t have to listen or answer at all, okay?”

Evan nodded and Connor immediately launched into a colorful story, detailing pretty much every second of his French class with Alana Beck. He kept interrupting his own story with exclamations about how weird it was that she was even talking to him. He also occasionally slipped into French in the middle of his sentences. He’d catch himself and immediately try to translate, but he wasn’t sure when he’d started speaking French so he’d either end up repeating what he’d already said in English or skipping large chunks entirely. Evan didn’t really mind. In fact he found himself relaxing at how very _Connor_ it was.

The lunch line was already empty thanks to Evan’s minor freak out in the hall, so they went through it quickly. Connor grabbed trays for both of them, filling them with food and not mentioning it when Evan had to grab onto the back of his hoodie when he could no longer lean into his side. Evan managed to put in his lunch numbers with only slightly shaking hands when they got to the register, silently thanking the federal government for free lunch on account of his mother’s dismal salary. For once Connor didn’t have to pay for him.

Connor found an empty table near the corner and put their trays right next to each other so that Evan wouldn’t have to let go of him if he didn’t want to (and he didn’t want to). “Eat,” Connor ordered in the middle of his sentence, and Evan immediately complied, reaching out to grab a chicken nugget.

“It’s not as good as your cooking,” Evan said on his second nugget, proud of himself for making a complete sentence.

Connor laughed easily, acting like he hadn’t even noticed that Evan was nonverbal for a bit there. “I should hope not.” He grinned fondly down at him, looking proud too (which was sad and pathetic but _whatever_ ). “I’m gonna ask you dumb questions.”

Evan liked that. He liked that Connor didn’t say ‘Can I ask you something?’ or some variation of that because that would make him nervous and sweaty and incapable of speech again. Evan liked when it wasn’t up to him what happened— when he could just be a willing and wanted participant. “Alright,” he agreed, because even though it wasn’t a question Connor had still paused to give him an opportunity to object. Which was also lovely of him.

“What’s your favorite movie?”

“ _Planet Earth_.” The answer slipped out before he could think about how lame that was.

“Oh my god,” Connor laughed. “Of course it is. I don’t know why I even asked.” Evan just rolled his eyes and waited for him to continue. “Okay, uh, opposite of your dream job. What would you hate to do for a living?”

Evan contemplated that for a second. “Acting? Or— or just being on TV or whatever. Being famous. Being famous sounds awful.”

“Fair enough. What’s—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Evan interrupted and Connor’s mouth snapped closed because Evan rarely interrupted anyone. “You have to answer these questions too.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. My favorite film is _Les Quatre Cents Coups_ and my nightmare job would be—”

“No, hold on. You can’t— that’s not fair. You know what _Planet Earth_ is. I have no clue what ‘Lay Cat Se Coo’ is.” Evan did not even attempt to mimic the French accent.

“Oh my god please never butcher the French language near me ever again, Jesus Christ,” Connor cackled. “Just— call it _The 400 Blows_ , alright? That’s the English title. I seriously cannot explain the plot to you though because it doesn’t make any fucking sense out of context.”

“Why’s it your favorite?” Evan pressed.

“I dunno, Ev. Because I’m an angsty hipster who learned French specifically to watch François Truffaut films?”

“The only French film I've ever seen is _Blue is the Warmest Color_.”

“Oh my god.”

Evan giggled, fully expecting the look of pure horror on Connor’s face. “Have you seen it?”

Connor’s answer did not disappoint. “Like a quarter of that movie’s runtime is just extended lesbian sex scenes. And it has no business being _three fucking hours long,_ by the way _._ The one fucking time that people are talking about French cinema and _that’s_ what it is? Don’t get me wrong, the script and the acting and the directing and the whatever the fuck is all _good,_ obviously _._ And I _know_ queer representation of any kind is important. But you cannot tell me that the majority of the fucking reason that film did so well is not because of the _goddamn porn._ Plus what is it with lesbians sleeping with men when they’re upset? Why is that a thing in fiction? That doesn’t fucking happen. Why does that make any kind of sense? Imagine if I just got pissed and went ‘Well, guess I’ll go fuck a woman!’ Like, no? Also cheating is bullshit just regardless of anything else. And then they don’t even end up together in the end! It’s bullshit. Why can’t the gays ever be fucking happy? Especially lesbians! Have you ever seen _The L Word_ ? Not a single one of those relationships is healthy. But these lesbians go fucking nuts over it! It’s like, kill your gays and abuse your lesbians, I guess. And the whole community is just gonna fucking _rally_ around it because all representation is good representation, right? _Fucking No._ ”

Evan’s eyes were wide and he was trying _really hard_ not to laugh, but _holy shit_ Connor rambling about queer representation and lesbian rights is just about the most _endearing_ thing. Just… Connor being so _openly passionate?_ Hot. Evan felt like he was going to pass out from the sheer amount of _love_ he felt for this boy. “Wow,” he managed.

Connor turned bright red and Evan could practically see him rebuilding his walls. His hand jutted out on its own accord, landing on Connor’s forearm and making him look at him. His brain was short circuiting with the attraction and the overwhelming need to make sure Connor didn’t close off again. “Don’t— don’t take this the wrong way,” he started, ramping himself up to ramble because if he didn’t he wouldn’t be able to get it out. “You— you can blame it on the fact that I’ve only just recently discovered I’m gay, but, uh, watching you rant about queer rights is— is just about the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed.”

Connor turned impossibly redder right along with Evan. “Okay,” he huffed out, looking like he was trying to remember how to breathe. And then he pushed Evan’s face away with a laugh and Evan managed to laugh at himself too. “Okay, _moving on,_ ” Connor emphasized the words, looking forwards instead of at Evan. “My nightmare job would be a lawyer. Because I don’t want to be my dad.”

“Fair enough.” Evan tilted his head. “What’s your dream job then?”

He shrugged noncommittally. “I dunno. I’ve never thought about it. I worked at the library this summer though and that was cool.”

“What’d you do at the library?”

To Evan’s surprise, Connor blushed again. He muttered something under his breath and Evan had to poke him to get him to speak up. “I helped with the children’s reading program, alright?”

Evan grinned up at him. “That’s adorable, oh my god.”

“Shut up.”

“No, I’m serious. I bet those kids loved you. They probably thought you were the coolest person in the world.”

Connor rolled his eyes though he couldn’t hide the little pleased smile that was tugging at his lips. “Shut up.”

Evan was absolutely loving the image of a group of kids following Connor around, climbing all over him and begging him to read more stories. “I love kids so much, oh my god.”

Connor raised his brows. “Really?”

Evan shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, I get why you’d assume I wouldn’t. Some— some people find kids intimidating? But— yeah, I don’t. Kids are like a thousand times easier to talk to than adults or— people our age or whatever. They’re just… just so goofy? Like, they don’t even know how freaking _weird_ they are, y’know? They just are. Unapologetically. And they get so excited about _everything._ I actually— I worked the day camp at Ellison this summer and they thought it was so cool how much I knew about trees. We’d go on hikes and they’d quiz me the entire way and be so impressed every time I knew the answer— which was all of the time, obviously. And they’re just so unreserved about everything, y’know? They tell you what they think. Even if they were like ‘you’re kinda weird’ I could just laugh because they weren’t saying it to be mean they were just stating a fact and I could be like ‘well so are you’ and they’d just agree.” Evan laughed, remembering that exact scenario. “Kids are just _fun,_ y’know?”

Connor’s eyes were shining and he had that soft open smile again. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Ev. You can blame it on the fact that you recently told me you’re gay. But watching you ramble about kids is just about the cutest thing I’ve ever witnessed.”

Evan snorted out a choked laugh and shoved Connor away. “Oh my god, shut up.”

Connor was laughing at his own joke, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “It’s true!” he insisted while Evan pouted. “Also you’re right. Kids are great.”

“Really? You don’t find them annoying?”

“Oh, I find them _so_ annoying. But in a good way.”

“That— that makes no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense.”

Evan huffed. “No.” And he usually hated when people said things like that. People were hard enough to understand without throwing in non-sequiturs and contradictions. But Connor was a walking contradiction. He burned cold. He was sweet sorrow. He was simultaneously everything you’d expect and constantly surprising. It was as dizzying as it was addicting. Evan was intoxicated. Because, really, Connor was the only thing that _made_ _sense._ He made sense of Evan. And no one had ever bothered to do that before.

Connor tapped his forehead. “Where’d you go?”

Evan blinked, coming back to himself. “Sorry— I mean, uh, nowhere. Just thinking.” His phone buzzed and he was grateful for the distraction.

Until he read the new message, that is.

 **Mom:** _Picked up a Saturday double. Told Ms G we wouldn’t be able to make dinner tomorrow._

Which meant Evan wouldn’t see his mom until Sunday, probably. Since she had class this afternoon and another late night/early morning shift. She’ll get home at 3AM and sleep until nine then go back to work and not get home until Evan has gone to bed. He hasn’t seen her since Thursday morning already, so that’s 72 hours at the earliest, and then she has Sunday night classes anyway. Does he even have a mother at this point? 

And the way she said it too. No apology, no promises to reschedule for next weekend, not even an excuse. Or any acknowledgement of the time that will pass between actually seeing him. And Evan knows, he _knows_ that the reason she’s working so much is for him, but that only makes it worse. Because then he just feels guilty on top of disappointed and angry. And then it’s just like his feelings aren’t even justified anymore because it’s all his fault anyway.

“What is it?” Connor asked.

Evan shook his head, sighing. “Nothing. Just my mom informing me that she won’t be home. Again.” He knew he sounded bitter and petty. He didn’t care.

“This day sucks,” Connor stated, and Evan had to think about that for a second.

Because, objectively, today _did_ suck. He didn’t get enough sleep last night, his mom left before he woke up, he drank orange juice after brushing his teeth, it’s pouring down raining outside, his clothes got soaked, his hair is a mess, he’s wearing red, someone called him the f-slur, he had a panic attack in front of his entire class, there’s new bruises on his legs, there’s blood on his pants, he missed first and second period, his mother won’t be home until Sunday, and he’s been high-strung with an anxiety attack pretty much all day.

But also. Connor picked him up so that he didn’t have to walk. He bought him frozen hot chocolate and a breakfast sandwich that were surprisingly good and made sure he ate the donuts too. Evan had extra clothes in his locker and Connor made sure no one came in the bathroom while he changed. He gave him his hoodie so that he could hide his red shirt. He’d defended him against the bully and gotten him out of that situation before it could get worse. He didn’t have to go back to class after having a panic attack until he felt ready to do so. Jared sort of admitted to being an asshole and is making up for it. Connor could tell he was having a bad anxiety day and was doing everything in his power to keep Evan from spiraling without making a big deal of it. Like it was easy. Like he _wanted_ to help him. And despite all the bad stuff, it was working. He has laughed and smiled today even though the voice in his head was practically screaming, and that had to count for something.

“Today does suck,” he agreed slowly, “but it could be worse.” He reached out and linked their hands together, just as he had that morning in the teachers’ lounge. At least they were going through this shitty day together. At least they could say they weren’t alone.

Connor smiled, squeezing his hand in return, silently indicating that he understood and agreed.

When the bell rang they went to the APES classroom, still beating the majority of their classmates even without the advantage of starting in the courtyard. They took their seats at the front and Evan watched Connor start to sketch apple trees into the margins of his notebook while they waited for the class to start.

Alana Beck bounded up to them a few minutes before the second bell was set to ring. “Hi guys!” she said brightly. “I just wanted to give you guys this!” she handed over a flyer marked with the school’s Student Community Leadership emblem— of which she was president. “We’re planning a fall festival this year to raise funds for the homecoming dance! It’s a bummer that the school had to cut it from the budget this year, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still make it ourselves! We’re looking for volunteers and donations— Connor, I know you’re in the advanced art class. Maybe you could help us decorate? And we were thinking of having an art tent too. I don’t know if you could talk to some of the other artists at this school. And Evan, you’re in botany, right? You could help with decorations too or we were also thinking of having a pumpkin patch…” Alana went on listing all of the things she wanted for this festival while the boys stared back at her incredulously.

“Beck,” Connor interrupted eventually, shaking his head and looking completely out of his element. “It’s August.”

“Oh, I know!” she bounced on her toes. “But these things take tons of planning! I find it best to get ahead of the workload before—”

“Okay.” Connor shoved the flyer that presumably had information on how to contact her and the other SCL members into his bag . “We’ll think about it.”

Alana positively _beamed._ “Great! And you can text me if you have any questions! I’m usually pretty busy after school but—”

“Got it.” Connor looked like he wanted to run.

Evan felt the need to say something. “Um, th-thanks, Alana. That’s really, uh, nice—”

“No problem! I’ll see you guys later!” And then she sort of skipped to the other side of the room.

Connor looked at Evan with wide eyes. “What the hell?” he mouthed.

Evan shook his head, shrugging helplessly. They were the last two students to ever be considered for anything SCL organized. They were the least participatory students in the whole of Penfield High School— and that included all the stoner kids because at least they ran tech for the theatre department and sat under the bleachers at football games. Evan’s never even _seen_ their school’s football field, and he seriously doubted Connor had either.

Connor’s brow furrowed. “Does she have friends?” he whispered.

“Um,” Evan looked down as he tried to recall. The thing about being the quiet loner kid was that he had ample time to notice everyone else while they ignored him. He’s never talked to the majority of the people at their school, but he could probably name every single clique in the senior class. _Which probably doesn’t help the fact that everyone thinks you’re creepy._ “I don’t know, actually? She talks to almost everyone—”

Connor snorted. “Alana Beck does not _talk,_ she _monologues._ ”

“Rude,” Evan chastised, though he wouldn’t lie and say it was untrue. “I’ve never heard her refer to anyone as a friend. She just says she has _acquaintances._ ”

“Oh, shit, yeah. She said something like that to me earlier. I mean I wasn’t actually listening but I remember thinking that was weird.”

The bell rang again before Evan could tell him not to be judgemental, and then Alana Beck was forgotten in the midst of ecosystems.

And Alana wasn’t in their next period so Evan didn’t think of her again until he got to seventh period and it was still raining. They couldn’t go out to the courtyard so Dr. Hayes just gave them a quick lecture and a worksheet which Evan breezed through. A few of the girls who drove left early, but Evan was trapped by his inability to get behind the wheel of a car. He pulled out his phone to try and find something to kill the time and found himself on instagram again, looking up Alana Beck. She was one of those students who followed everyone. Evan followed her too because it seemed rude not to follow people he knew back.

_You should have followed Connor back._

Evan shook his head, determined not to get back on that spiral. _He hadn’t realized._

Alana’s instagram was exactly what you’d expect it to be. A lot of pictures from the various volunteer projects she participated in, lots of student-made graphics advertising whatever was going on that week, the occasional social or political justice post, and far less selfies than most girls her age.

Evan was starting to realize he had an instagram stalking habit that he really needed to quit before it got him in trouble. _What if he accidentally liked an old post? Then she’d know he was stalking her and she'd tell everyone including Connor and he’d suspect you stalked him too and you won’t be able to deny it because you did! You were drooling over his videos! And in class too! You’re so fucking creepy. What’s wrong with you?_

Breathing heavier than normal, he exed out of the app and went to his messages, texting Connor.

 **Evan:** _What are you doing?_

 **Connor:** _art._

 **Evan:** _I have a free period rn._

 **Connor:** _wanna come to the art room?_

 **Evan:** _Would your teacher be okay with that?_

 **Connor:** _yeah, she’s chill_

 **Evan:** _Be there in a sec._

Connor sent back a thumbs-up emoji and Evan quickly gathered his things, giving Dr. Hayes a polite nod before ducking out of the mostly-empty class. He made a short pit stop at his locker to grab his homework and then made his way to the art hall.

There was music coming from the other side of the door and Evan ended up standing outside of it for two and a half songs, psyching himself up to open it, but everytime he reached for the handle his brain reminded him that everyone was gonna look at him and he just _couldn’t do it._ He was physically incapable of opening the door. His heart was pounding and his ears were ringing—

No, wait, that was actual ringing. His phone was ringing.

 **Connor:** _did you get lost?_

 **Evan:** _I’m outside the door._

And then the door was opening on its own and Connor was staring at him and Evan was sure he was sweaty.

Connor just huffed out a small amused laugh. “C’mon dork.” He pulled him in by the wrist and led him easily into the classroom. Nobody looked at them.

Except for the teacher, whose brow furrowed as she spoke to Connor. “ _¿Por qué parece que tu amigo está a punto de llorar, él está bien?_ ”

Connor rolled his eyes “ _Él siempre se ve así. Está bien._ ”

She grinned. “ _Es lindo. Deberías dibujarlo._ ”

Connor turned bright red, sputtering a bit before replying gravely, “ _Confía en mí, ya lo he hecho._ ”

This made her laugh, shaking her head as she returned to whatever work she had on her desk.

Evan was dumbfounded. “You speak _Spanish_ too?” he hissed.

Connor shrugged, grabbing a chair for Evan and pulling it around next to his own. “Yeah.”

“Why?” Evan asked as he sat down, also having to take in the canvas in front of him and process that on top of everything else. Connor was sketching out the marriage trees they’d seen at the orchard the other day. This boy was going to be the death of him.

“I watched a lot of telenovelas as a kid,” Connor answered casually, as if this was a normal thing that kids did. Then he changed the subject, “So you didn’t get to play in your garden today?”

Evan scrunched his face up, absolutely hating how he had phrased that. “I’m not going to dignify that with a response.”

Connor looked up at him and laughed at the face he was pulling. “Oh my god, you’re grumpy.”

“Can you blame me?” he shot back.

“Yeah, fair enough.” Connor picked up his pencil and moved his attention back to his work. Evan was content to just watch him, his left hand moving across the canvas, bringing the trees to life, while his right hand tapped to the music still coming through the speaker on the teacher’s desk. The song was in Spanish but Connor’s mouth still moved with the words. If Evan listened closely enough, he could just hear him singing along.

It was a good distraction from his anxiety, but it definitely wasn’t helping the gay thoughts.

He yanked his eyes away from Connor’s profile and went back to his phone, careful to avoid instagram this time. He had unread messages from Jared.

 **Jared:** _why is zoe murphy asking me for your number?_

 **Jared:** _u shouldn’t cheat on ur boyfriend with his sister dude. thats messed up._

 **Evan:** _He’s not my boyfriend and also I’m gay so I wouldn’t either way._

 **Jared:** _YOU DID NOT JUST COME OUT TO ME VIA TEXT MESSAGE_

 **Jared:** _WHAT THE FUCK EVAN_

 **Jared:** _YOU DON'T THINK I DESERVE BEING GENTLY SAT DOWN AS YOU QUIETLY EXPLAIN THAT YOU LIKE SUCKING DICK?!_

 **Evan:** _I mean you’ve been calling it for years, so._

 **Jared:** _haha truuuu_

 **Jared:** _but ur a cancer tho so ur pretty asexual either way. i had like a 60/40 shot._

 **Evan:** _That’s gay._

 **Jared:** _oh my god has murphy made you funny?_

 **Jared:** _my little boy is all grown up_

 **Jared:** _taking that stoner dick like a champ_

 **Evan:** _Wtf Jared_

 **Jared:** _THAT F BETTER STAND FOR FRICK YOUNG MAN OR I WILL HAVE TO HAVE WORDS WITH THAT BOYFRIEND OF YOURS HE IS A BAD INFLUENCE ON YOU_

 **Evan:** _…_

 **Evan:** _Are you done?_

 **Jared:** _yeah_

 **Jared:** _so should i give the female murphy ur number or?_

 **Evan:** _Connor didn’t seem to want her to have it._

 **Jared:** _what is he in charge of you?_

 **Evan:** _No but if he doesn’t want his sister to text me he probably has reasons._

 **Jared:** _well then ask him what his “reasons” r bc i can only hold this girl off for so long. shes very persistent._

Evan looked up to find Connor hyper focused on the canvas in front of him. “Uh, Con?” he started hesitantly, and Connor glanced over his shoulder, raising a brow in indication that he was listening. “Apparently Zoe is bothering Jared for my number.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “It’s your number, Ev. If you want her to have it then let her have it.”

“O-oh, well. It’s not— It’s not that I _want_ her to have it— Not! Not that I _don’t want_ her to have it either. I just— uh, I don’t care. It doesn’t affect me. But I figured, um, since she asked you first and you said no— like I figured you had _reasons_ maybe? I don’t know. I probably shouldn’t assume— I mean why would you care? That would be weird, right? That’s probably weird. I’m being weird. I’m so sorry—”

“Ev,” Connor interrupted and Evan remembered to breathe. “I just felt like annoying her.” He waited for Evan to nod before going on. “Also she’s kind of a lot? I didn’t know what she was going to say and I didn’t want you to get a random text from an unknown number because I thought it might freak you out.”

“O-oh.” Evan blinked a few times. That was really considerate. Random texts from unknown numbers _do_ freak him out. One time Jared got a new number and he spent a week torturing Evan with random out of context memes and refusing to say who he was.

Connor’s brow drew together and he sort of looked Evan up and down, like he was checking to make sure he was okay. Then he suddenly stood up, grabbing his pencils from the well and shoving them in his bag. He grabbed the canvas and put it in a drawer labeled ‘CONNOR’ (not unlike Evan’s cast). He called across the room over his shoulder, “ _Señora, nos vamos._ ”

The teacher squinted at him. “ _¿Quedan cinco minutos?_ ”

Connor shouldered his bag. “ _Exactamente. ¿Te importa?_ ”

“ _No, por supuesto que no._ _¿Esta todo bien?_ ”

“ _Sí, sí. Lo siento. Gracias._ ”

She waved him off. “ _De nada. Adiós._ ”

Evan understood those last words, at least. Actually he got the majority of that interaction: he and Connor are leaving five minutes early. Connor returned her goodbye and Evan managed a little wave before he was being taken by the hand and dragged out of the classroom.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re done with school today,” Connor answered. “We did it. We can say we did it. Despite the fact that it was bullshit. And there’s no point sticking around for the last five minutes of it when you clearly need food and a nap.”

Evan stuck his lip out, feeling a bit like a child, but at the same time he didn’t want to argue because he _was_ tired and he probably _should_ eat, and what would he even be arguing? That they should waste five minutes of their lives doing nothing? So instead he followed Connor out to the parking lot and told Jared it was okay to give Zoe his number.

“Are you abandoning your sister?” he asked as they got into the car. He’d sort of expected them to wait in there for school to actually let out and for her to join them, but Connor was already shifting the car into reverse..

“She has band,” he answered. “She needs to get her license.”

Evan’s stomach turned. _You need to get your license. He hates driving you around. Just like your mom and Jared. You’re a burden. You’re always a burden. You can’t do anything for yourself. You’re useless and pathetic—_

“Evan, stop,” Connor said firmly, and Evan looked up at him with wide eyes. “I don’t know what just happened but your brain is being a real big asshole today and I’m about to punch it.”

That surprised a stuttered laugh out of him, if a little wet. “You— you’re gonna punch my brain?”

Connor was stubborn. Even when he said dumb stuff. “Yep. Yes, I’m going to punch your brain, Evan Hansen. Your anxiety doesn’t stand a chance against these fists.” He held his fists up jokingly, giving Evan a little mini heart attack as his hands were momentarily off the wheel. They fell back quickly though and Evan laughed again just as they were turning onto his street.

When they got to Evan’s house Connor took the keys out of the ignition and reached behind him for his bag. Evan blew out a little sigh of relief, grateful that he wouldn’t be left alone with his asshole brain. As soon as they were inside Evan was looking longingly up the stairs where he knew his bed was waiting for him even though it was only four o’clock.

Connor followed his gaze and once again read his mind. “I’m gonna cook us dinner and that’s literally the only thing I’m gonna make you do before you go to sleep. Fuck homework. We’ve got all weekend.”

Evan nodded even though the last thing on his priority list right now was eating. He looked down to the clothes he was wearing: blood-stained back up jeans, red shirt, and borrowed hoodie. “I’m gonna change first though.”

Connor smirked. “Alright.” He headed into the kitchen

So Evan went up the stairs as he heard Connor start to bang around, opening various cabinets and pulling out pots and pans. Evan tossed his bag to the floor of his bedroom, determined not to look at it again until Sunday at the earliest. 

He toed his sneakers off, letting them hit the wall with a satisfying thunk. Then he unzipped the hoodie, placing it on the bed before shucking the t-shirt and jeans and throwing them towards the bathroom, making a mental note to put them in the hamper later. (Or maybe the garbage.) 

He made a concentrated effort not to look down at his body as he moved to grab pajama bottoms and a sleep shirt from his dresser. He’d only end up bullying himself for stupid shit like having body hair and knobby knees. And he definitely didn’t need to see the new purpling bruises on his thighs, he could feel them just fine. And seeing the scars only ever made him want to add more. It was some sick exercise in control and punishment and release. He knew he needed better coping mechanisms, but quitting was easier said than done.

He hurriedly grabbed a pair of plaid blue pajama bottoms and an old faded blue t-shirt that had little holes all through it. He pulled them on and felt more like himself than he had all day. 

Then, simply because he could (and also because he was a hopeless gay) he put back on Connor’s hoodie, keeping it unzipped so that he could wrap it tightly around himself instead. He traipsed back downstairs and to the kitchen, finding Connor’s back to him as he leant over the stove.

He turned around just as Evan failed to stifle a yawn and he gave him this really soft look that Evan kind of just wanted to curl up in.

“What are you making?” he asked when Connor didn’t say anything.

Connor seemed to snap back into himself. “Oh, uh, rice bowls.” He gestured to the brown rice, chicken, and vegetables he already had laid out.

“Sounds good.” Evan padded into the kitchen and lifted himself onto the counter (not an easy feat with only one hand, but he made do with just his elbow). He swung his socked feet out in front of him as he watched Connor stir the pasta water. “I’m sorry you’re wasting your Friday night on me,” he said after a few beats of silence.

Connor gave him a weird look. “Evan, I hate to disillusion you from whatever bad boy rebel image you had of me. But I usually spend Friday nights alone in my room doing absolutely nothing. I’d rather be here than anywhere else.”

Evan’s chest might as well have burst open. No guilt over bagged shifts or skipped classes or missed sleep. No pointed reminders that he had other friends who were more fun. No comment about how annoying it was to be around his anxiety. He wasn’t there out of obligation or guilt or car insurance. He was just there. Because he wanted to be. He wanted to be with Evan _and nowhere else._

Evan was worried he was gonna start crying so he ducked his head, avoiding Connor’s heartfelt gaze. “Um. Wow. Th-thank you. Me too. I mean, I’m home, obviously. But I mean— with you. Yeah.” That was barely English. Did Connor’s multilingualism help him to translate Anxious Mess too?

Apparently it did, because he just laughed and said “Okay, Ev,” in that way that made Evan believe it might actually be okay.

They fell into a comfortable quiet after that— it wasn’t silence, as it was broken up by the sounds of food cooking and the occasional random comment from one of the boys, but they didn’t feel the need to find conversation. Evan found himself remembering all those (few) times he went to Jared’s and they just sat in his basement on their phones. It wasn’t comfortable, but Jared would always get annoyed every time Evan failed to string a sentence together properly, so he could never gather up the courage to attempt to try, and Jared couldn’t be bothered. Evan was never sure why he ever agreed to going over there. He supposed just because it made their moms happy. And who was he to turn down anyone’s offer to hang out with him?

Wow, his brain was being a real asshole today. Evan forced himself to focus back on Connor as he was stir frying the vegetables. He was muttering to himself in Spanish now. It might have been a song?

“So why does your art teacher speak to you in Spanish anyway?”

“What? Oh, yeah, that. I dunno. She found out I knew Spanish cos I was mouthing along with her music or whatever and it just kinda escalated from there.” Connor paused to focus on not burning the chicken. “Plus she can give me permission to do shit that she won’t let the rest of them do. Like having a friend in or leaving class early, for example.” He threw a pointed smirk over his shoulder which Evan was sure to roll his eyes at.

He pulled his phone out of his hoodie pocket while Connor started digging around for bowls.

 **Unknown:** _Is Connor with you?_

 **Unknown:** _This is Zoe by the way._

 **Unknown:** _This is Evan, right? I got this number from an unreliable source._

Evan snorted out loud at that, making Connor turn to him in question. “What’s funny?”

“Your sister just referred to Jared as an ‘unreliable source’” Evan answered as he added her to his contacts. “Which, when we were in eighth grade he told me that a ‘clitoris’ is a type of seasoning, so I’d say she’s pretty accurate.”

Connor choked on the chicken he was tasting. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Evan smirked, glancing up from where he was replying to Zoe with an affirmative. “Guess it doesn’t really matter either way now,” he quipped.

Connor groaned but laughed anyway. “Oh my god, you’re gonna be one of those overly confident gays, aren’t you?”

He snorted. “Sorry, have we met?”

“Yeah we have.” Connor was spooning all the ingredients into the bowls. “And your sass has a tendency to overrule your anxiety. I can practically hear all the gay jokes you have lined up in there.” 

Evan chuckled at the assessment, not really knowing how to argue with it. For the most part that was only true around people he was comfortable with (so: Connor), and then over text where he couldn’t stutter and fuck it up. 

He hopped off the counter, grabbing the tupperware container Connor had just filled with the leftovers and putting it in the fridge while Connor brought all the dirty dishes to the sink. He had been cleaning as he went though so there weren’t many.

They brought their rice bowls over to the couch and Connor turned on the TV, but instead of going to Netflix like Evan assumed he would, he found the Spanish channel and put on the telenovela that was playing.

“One of your favorites?” Evan teased, spearing a piece of asparagus.

“Hush, María is going to tell Antonio she loves him on his wedding day— and he’s marrying her sister.” It was obvious by the way he said it that he wasn’t just translating what was happening on the screen, he was already fully invested in this story.

“Sounds very hetero to me,” Evan sighed, purely for the face that Connor gave him in return.

“Oh my god,” Connor groaned, shoving him away playfully while Evan cackled, proud of himself. “Shut up! It pulls you in, okay?”

Evan continued laughing as he sat back up, moving just a bit closer to Connor than he was before so that their legs were pressed against each other’s. If Connor noticed, he didn’t say anything, keeping his eyes trained on the television— though his knee did knock into Evan’s.

Evan winced a little bit, remembering his bruises and wondering if he’d made a huge mistake, but then Connor’s arm brushed against his and he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it. He had a high pain tolerance anyway.

He couldn’t keep up with the telenovela at all, but that was fine because with the way his mind was working today he wouldn’t have been able to keep up with anything anyway, so it was nice knowing he wasn’t supposed to be able to with this. Instead Evan focused on forcing himself to eat (it was really good, but his stomach was just not in the mood— it had had a stressful day too). He kept getting distracted by Connor though, who kept muttering to himself in Spanish, commenting on what was going on or reprimanding the actions of the characters. Evan had meant what he said at lunch, Connor Murphy was hot when he cared.

 _Now is really not the time, Evan,_ he reprimanded himself, shoving more food in his mouth as assurance that he wouldn’t accidentally say something stupid outloud like ‘Hey can I suck your dick while you watch Spanish soap operas?’ because that absolutely would _not_ be received well.

_Or maybe it would. Never know unless you try._

And that voice sounded eerily similiar to the one that told him to climb that tree. That tree that he’d picked out months in advance, that he instantly thought about when Dr. Hayes told him about the job, that he asked the other park rangers for the height of, and then Googled to make sure it would be tall enough. The tree he thought about every time something went wrong, that he kept in the back of his mind as a failsafe, a reminder that nothing mattered because it would all be over soon anyway.

“... Evan?” Connor was waving his hand in front of his face and Evan snapped back, trying to track how his mind had gotten there and then instantly flushing when he remembered. His stomach turned. _You’re so messed up. In every way._ “Hey, look at me,” Connor demanded and Evan remembered how to breathe when their eyes met. “Just… hold on a second, okay?”

Evan nodded and then Connor was standing up, taking their bowls into the kitchen. He heard the sink turn on the telltale sounds of dishwashing, and he tried to say something about helping, tried to move to go do that, but he was frozen in place and his vocal chords were refusing. Instead he curled in on himself, going numb.

Some part of him registered that Connor was speaking. He couldn’t make sense of the words but he focused on his voice anyway. _You are not alone. You are not alone. You are not alone._ He repeated it to himself over and over like a mantra, trying to drown out the voice in his head claiming the opposite.

Then Connor reappeared in front of him and Evan couldn’t stop himself from reaching out, needing the physical reassurance that he was there and he was real and he _cared._ Connor Murphy, the boy who cared about french cinema and queer rights and classic novelists. He cared about Evan too. The boy who never let anyone in had let _him_ in. Evan Hansen. That had to count for something.

“Hey, come on,” Connor was whispering, and the next thing Evan knew he was being lifted into the air and carried up the stairs. When Connor put him down on the bed he instantly reached out, trying to keep him there. Connor chuckled, “Okay, Ev, I will, just… where’s your meds? You need them.”

Evan was too tired of feeling like this to argue. He gestured to the box on his nightstand and watched Connor take out the bottles, reading them both before shaking one out and handing it over along with the lukewarm water bottle.

“Did you take your meds this morning?” Connor asked as he swallowed, and Evan shook his head.

“They don’t work,” he managed to get out, weak and scratchy.

Connor closed his eyes and Evan was glad he couldn’t see the disappointment in them. “Okay,” he said evenly. “We will deal with that tomorrow.”

 _We. We. We. We. We._ Evan tugged insistently on Connor’s arm again.

“Okay,” Connor said again, and Evan liked that he said that so much. Things didn’t feel okay, but maybe they were, if Connor thought so. Or maybe they would be soon.

Connor laid down beside him and Evan instantly curled into his chest, searching out his heart beat. Connor’s arms went around him. “Today was shit,” he said and Evan silently agreed. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”

Evan liked that too. He repeated it to himself as the day and the meds hit him, forcing his eyes closed. 

_We’ll try again tomorrow. We’ll try again tomorrow. We’ll try again tomorrow…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot happened in this chapter. It was the definition of Hurt/Comfort.  
> As always your comments mean the world to me so please leave them ❤︎
> 
> EDIT: I DIDN'T MEAN TO HIT POST SO I GUESS YOU GET THIS A DAY EARLY FINE WHATEVER


	6. All the other boys.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When I was eleven years old, I saw the most beautiful boy in the world."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saturday (Part 1)

Evan woke up a little after midnight, exactly six hours since he fell asleep— his mind apparently deciding he didn’t deserve any more than that.

He was still sprawled across Connor, hands twisted into the fabric at his side, drool wetting the space over his heart. It took Evan a few moments to process what had happened.

“You stayed,” he whispered, unable to stop himself, too in awe to be self-conscious.

“Yeah,” Connor replied, just as quietly, and it startled Evan to realize his friend was actually awake.

He looked up, meeting Connor’s eyes in the dark. “Didn’t you sleep?”

Connor’s hand left Evan’s back to run through the blond’s hair. “A bit. Do you feel better?”

Evan thought about that for a moment, setting his head back down as he evaluated his being. His chest wasn’t as tight as it had been all day. His head wasn’t screaming at him anymore. He bunched up the shirt around Connor’s stomach and nodded smally. “Yeah, I think so.”

“That’s good.”

He looked back up again to see Connor’s face. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Connor stared at him for a few moments before answering, and Evan did his best not to look away or squirm or give away how uncomfortable he felt being so openly observed. He’d never been okay with the idea that people could see him— he hated that he couldn’t control it. He hated that he couldn’t control what Connor was seeing and thinking about him.

“I’m dissociating a little,” he admitted quietly, like he didn’t really want to say it at all.

Evan frowned, sitting up and lying back down so that he was on the pillow next to Connor’s. He waited until Connor mirrored his position and they were face to face, only about eight inches of space between their noses.

Evan found Connor’s hand beneath the sheets and laced their fingers together. Then he looked Connor dead in the eyes and said, “ _Blue is the Warmest Color_ really should have made me realize how gay I am a lot sooner.”

It had the desired effect. Connor snorted out a surprised laugh, choking a bit as he fell onto his back. “ _Oh my god!_ ”

Evan grinned, sitting back up and leaning over him. “Do I need to ask you for five things you can see or are you good?”

Connor smirked. “I’m good. It wasn’t that bad. Just didn’t feel real there for a while.”

Evan nodded and then climbed over his friend (earning a small ‘oof’); he tugged on his hand once he was standing. “C’mon, let’s go on a walk.”

“Evan, it’s the middle of the night and you’re wearing pajamas.” Connor stood up anyway.

“And you’re not,” he countered, as if that was a good point. He let go of him so he could put on his shoes, and was pleased when he saw Connor doing the same. He grabbed his phone from his nightstand and found a text from his mom, sent ten minutes ago, letting him know she’d received the text he’d sent several hours ago informing her that Connor was coming over.

He shoved the phone in his hoodie pocket, determined not to dwell on that again, and turned to face Connor. He held his hand out again and Connor took it, allowing him to lead him down the stairs and out the door. He only let go to lock the house.

“There’s a little park not far from here,” Evan said, taking Connor past the car. His road didn’t have a sidewalk, so they stuck close to the edge of the left side, avoiding puddles as best they could. The rain had finally stopped, and the air smelled of petrichor.

Connor tilted his head up as they walked. “It sucks we’re so close to the city. The stars are hidden.”

Evan hummed in agreement. “I’ve never been anywhere else. I guess I’ve never seen stars? Not really.” There were a few dotting their sky, but Evan knew there were more in other places.

“One day we’ll drive out to the desert,” Connor promised. “There’s no light pollution out there, and you can see entire galaxies.”

“That sounds nice,” Evan agreed reverently, afraid of the little spark of hope he could feel in his chest. Connor made him believe in things like that. That he could have a future. And not just any future, but one full of redwood forests and trips to Europe and stargazing in the desert and… and Connor. Evan would take any kind of future if it was with Connor.

They reached the end of the street and crossed the road. There was an ungated grassy park, and by unspoken agreement they sat down on the swings. The rusted chains squeaked loudly in protest, but they swung gently back and forth anyway, their long legs dragging their feet through the dirt.

Connor broke the silence, still staring at the few resilient stars, brighter than all the rest. “When I was eleven years old, I saw the most beautiful boy in the world,” he started, and Evan’s breath caught in his throat. He didn’t know if he wanted to hear this story, something vile curling in his stomach, but he let Connor continue anyway. Equal parts in understanding that he needed to get it off his chest, and just pure masochistic curiosity. 

“We’d been in school together since kindergarten, and I knew who he was, obviously. I’d noticed him. But something about this day… Y’know how sometimes you see your teacher at the grocery store and it throws you because they look weird in the produce section of Wegmans? Just… out of context. Like, you’d never thought about them existing outside of school and then suddenly there they are.”

Evan nodded even though Connor wasn’t looking at him.

“It was like that, but better,” he said. “It was the Summer before sixth grade, and I’ve always been kind of messed up but this was like… right when things started getting bad. Right when my mom started fighting with my dad about therapy, but before Zoe decided she hated me. And I was eleven but I was scrappy and a little shit so I snuck out and took my skateboard and just fuckin… left. I don’t even know where I thought I was going. I just knew I needed to _go._ ” He shook his head. “So of course I ended up at Ellison. I think that’s just where everything leads in this town. Whenever you don’t have a goal in mind it’s like… the roads just twist and your feet move on their own and bam, you’re at Ellison.”

Evan huffed out a laugh. He’d thought something similar this past Summer— or maybe his entire life. He’d spent a lot of time at that park even before he’d worked there. Before that tree was _the_ tree. When he used to daydream about being strong enough to climb it and seeing how the world might look from up so high. Instead of how it would feel to let go.

“Anyway I get there, and like I said: I’m a little shit, so I’m on the paved bike path with my skateboard, until finally a ranger sees me and tells me to cut it out. So I just start aimlessly wandering around until I ended up well off of the marked trails and into the woods. And I see this boy…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “And I instantly recognized him at first because of his shirt, but then I do like, a literal double take. Because he looked _so different._ And it’s not like the grocery store thing because it wasn’t exactly weird to see him on his own or in the woods. But it’s that he was smiling? And it hit me all at once that I’d never seen him smile like that before— maybe not at all. It was just _so real. He_ was so real and I remember thinking he was the realest thing I’d ever seen… 

“I just stood there. Breathless. Terrified of making a sound and letting him see me. Because I knew if he saw me that smile would go away, and I just wanted to keep looking at it— at him. _God,_ that sounds so creepy, but it’s true.” Connor shrugged, toeing at the dirt. “I eventually ran off, but I spent the rest of Summer thinking about him. That’s why I started drawing. I wanted to draw him smiling like that. So that I could look at it whenever… And I really thought I was gonna manage to speak to him when school started back, but I was too afraid he’d be scared of me. And I couldn’t be another reason he didn’t smile— I literally could not handle that idea. And I was so convinced there was just no way that I, Connor Murphy, could _ever_ make someone smile like that. It meant too much. It was too special for someone like me. He’d never let me have something so precious. I’d just end up ruining it like everything else.”

Connor looked so sad, Evan wanted to reach out and tell him that wasn’t true. But he didn’t know the boy he was talking about. Anything he said would just be useless platitudes. And he didn’t want Connor to stop talking yet. He needed to know how the story ended— if it ended.

He took a deep breath. “So instead I was just watching and drawing. But it was hard because he always looked so sad. I was constantly waiting for those rare moments when he didn’t. So I figured out what made him happy, and I was always sure to look over whenever those things were mentioned in class. And I wanted so badly to go up to him and start talking about this list of things in my head that made him smile. I used to daydream about it. Just making him smile. That’s all I wanted…” He drifted off, shaking his head and letting out a deep sigh.

“But I made everyone around me scared and angry so I knew, _I knew_ I’d never be able to. Things were getting progressively worse at home and I was just _so angry_ all the time. I truly fucking hated myself and it made me so mad that I was stuck being me while everyone else got to be anyone else. And I’m speaking in the past tense but I still feel like that most of the time.”

Evan’s heart broke at that and he must have made a displeased noise because Connor gave him a little reassuring smile.

“Maybe not so much anymore,” he relented, and Evan might as well have melted at the look the other boy was giving him. 

This was the most Evan had ever heard Connor speak all at once, and Evan was loath to mess it up. Part of him was enjoying pretending the boy in the story was himself. But really he knew he could never make anyone feel that way— especially not someone as beautiful as Connor. “Is… is that the end of the story?” he asked hesitantly.

Connor sort of sighed to himself. “There’s more but… I don’t know if it’s ended yet.”

Evan didn’t know if that meant he hadn’t finished telling the story yet or living it, and he was too afraid of the latter to ask. They swung in silence for a bit longer. Evan waited for the self-deprecating thoughts to come back, to remind him that he wasn’t working right, that Connor was in love with the boy in the story and not him because who could ever love him? And he did think those things absently, but they weren’t as all-consuming as they normally were. 

The Xanax must still be working.

“C’mon, before we get mugged,” Connor said, standing up and holding his hand out for Evan.

“Mugged?” Evan repeated with a bit of a teasing smile, taking Connor’s hand. “I know this isn’t exactly your side of town but this isn’t _the hood_. It’s mostly old people who live on this street.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Evan, I’m a delinquent. You think I don’t know where the bad parts of town are?”

Evan snorted. “You are _not_ a delinquent. You’re in all AP classes, get straight A’s, learn foreign languages _for fun,_ and are the favorite student of at least two teachers. You’re an even better kid than me.”

Connor scoffed at that, scrunching his face up. “Oh my god, _whatever._ I still skip class, get into fights, get detention, skateboard on private property, and smoke weed.”

They swung their hands between them, keeping the tone light as they walked back to the house. “Weed is like the lightest drug you can do behind nicotine and tobacco,” Evan said.

“You don’t _do_ weed.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Uh-huh.” Evan was being sarcastic, but he was secretly pleased with himself that he’d finally gotten Connor out of his head— since the walk to the park and the subsequent story had only proved to disassociate him further. It seemed that his problem was more with derealization than any past trauma. Though Evan was sure he had trauma, it appeared to be pretty locked up if that day in the orchard was anything to go by.

“Would you prefer I smoked crack? Would that fit the bad boy rebel image better?” Connor continued.

Evan shuddered, remembering the pictures from those D.A.R.E. assemblies in elementary school. “No, thank you,” he replied evenly, earning another snort from Connor. “I prefer your face without holes in it, if it’s all the same to you.”

Connor threw his head back with laughter, pulling Evan back a bit. They had made it to his small front yard, but they weren’t making any moves to go inside just yet.

“Does the weed thing not bother you?” Connor asked, and his voice was quiet again. Evan wondered what that meant. Did he really care what he thought?

Evan had never considered it before; he shrugged. “I dunno. Not really. Why do you smoke?”

“It’s medical,” Connor admitted, looking embarrassed, which Evan found odd. _Is it more embarrassing to smoke weed legally?_ “After, uh, freshman year, I kept flying off the fucking handle cos of, y’know, flashbacks or whatever. And my mom read about cannabis for PTSD or whatever. So she and my dad fought about that for a long time until finally I had a really bad episode and he relented— probably more for Zoe’s sake than mine. But even though it was my mom’s idea she’s still weird as fuck about it. _‘I don’t want you going to school high, Connor’_ and all that bullshit. But it’s like? That’s where I get in the most trouble cos of my dumb fuckin brain. I guess it’s bad for her image or whatever the fuck but that’s stupid cos it’s not like everyone doesn’t already know I smoke weed.”

Evan squeezed his hand. He thought about pointing out that Connor rambles too sometimes, but decided against it for now. “Then I _really_ don’t care about the weed thing,” he said firmly. “I’m glad you have something that helps.”

“And that I’m not actually a stoner?” The corner of his mouth ticked up in an almost-smile.

Evan rolled his eyes. “You’re still kind of a stoner, but I never cared about that.” He grinned up at him and Connor’s whole face softened in return, even as he let out a light laugh. “But it does mean you _don’t_ actually know where the bad parts of town are,” Evan added teasingly. “You get weed from the pharmacy.”

Connor turned red. “No, shut up. You’re ruining my image.”

Evan’s eyes widened with sudden realization. “This also means all those times you said you’d otherwise spend your money on weed you were lying!”

“Well…” Connor looked up as he figured out how to spin it. “It is all still my parents money, and they _do_ still have to pay for the weed so _technically—_ ”

“Oh my god, no.” Evan let go of his hand and turned away dramatically. “For someone who claims he doesn’t want to be a lawyer you really know how to bullshit your way out of trouble.”

Connor laughed as he chased after him, following him up the porch stairs to the front door. Evan threw it open, walking inside and leaving Connor to close it.

“You’ve figured me out, Evan Hansen. I’m secretly just another rich kid with more of my father’s money than I know what to do with it, pretending to be a rebel specifically to get under my parents’ skin.” He found Evan in the kitchen, taking the strawberry ice cream from the freezer and grabbing two spoons from the silverware drawer.

“Nah, you’d still be like this no matter how much money your parents had,” Evan replied flippantly. “The look just suits you. I mean, imagine if you dressed like me?” He shuddered for dramatic effect and also a bit of genuine horror at the image. Connor in a polo? Absolutely not.

“No,” he agreed, “I could never pull off the innocent tree nerd vibe. I’m too fuckin scary looking.”

“Scary beautiful, more like,” Evan muttered, not really processing the words before they were out of his mouth. It was true though. Connor Murphy was _ethereal._ He had no business wearing khakis.

Connor turned pink which made Evan think he might have heard that, but they both shoved ice cream in their faces to keep from saying anything more embarrassing or friendship-ruining.

This silence was not at all comfortable. Evan could feel his heart pounding in his ears and he was convinced that at any second Connor was going to break the silence and say—

“When’s your mom coming home?” 

_Well, not that._

“Uh…” Evan blinked a few times, trying to turn-off-and-turn-back-on his brain. “Three probably? Around that.”

“Do you wanna be here?” 

Evan was once again struck with how quickly Connor had figured him out. No, he didn’t want to see his mom when she got home. He’d get nothing but an overworked and tired ‘goodnight’ before she went to sleep, or in the morning a rushed ‘goodbye’ before she went right back to work. Really, talking to her was more disappointing than not talking at all. At least if they weren’t talking he wasn’t faced with the fact that they were incapable of communicating in any meaningful way.

Connor must have read it on his face. “We can go to my house,” he offered.

Evan bit his lip. He didn’t want to be a nuisance and he knew Connor didn’t exactly like being at home. “Give me a reason that _you_ would want to,” he said, and Connor opened his mouth but Evan cut home off, “and it can’t have anything to do with me.”

Connor rolled his eyes which meant Evan had figured him out too. “Fine. I’ve been wearing these jeans for nearly 20 hours now. If we go to my house I get to put on sweatpants.”

Evan pursed his lips. It was a good answer. “Yeah, alright.”

“Great.” Connor snatched the ice cream away from him and shoved it back in the freezer. “Let’s go then.”

They went back upstairs so that Evan could shove some clothes and toiletries in a bag. He looked at his backpack with all his homework, but eventually talked himself out of bringing it in just about the weirdest way possible. _It’s Shabbat, you shouldn’t be doing work anyway. It’s the Lord’s day. That’s terrible logic. When's the last time you went to temple? THE LORD’S DAY._ It was a good thing no one could hear his thoughts.

_What if everyone can hear your thoughts? What if everyone else on Earth is telepathic but when you were born it was agreed that it had to be kept a secret from you and only you. Everyone in the world knows about Evan Hansen: the kid who can’t read minds._

“You ready?” Connor asked, brow furrowed as he looked at Evan, still standing on the bottom stair, staring blankly into space, imagining a global conspiracy that revolved around him.

“Yep,” he let out, trying to remember all the rational reasons that would all be impossible.

They went back out and Connor went ahead to start the car while Evan locked the door. He pulled his phone out to text his mom as soon as he got in the passenger seat.

 **Evan:** _Going to Connor’s. Hope that’s okay._

He didn’t feel like she deserved him actually asking for permission. She’d stopped having any authority over his life a long time ago. And what was she gonna do? Keep him from leaving? Ground him? That would require her to actually be home.

He’ll probably never even get the chance to come out to his mom. She’s never around long enough.

“How did your parents react?” he asked suddenly. “When— when you came out?”

Connor sent him a look that Evan didn’t know how to decipher— somewhere between worried and confused, maybe. “Uh. I don’t think they were that surprised? But they wanted to blame all my bullshit on that. Like, ‘Oh he’s depressed because he’s gay!’ nonsense. Which like, it definitely didn’t _help,_ but I was fucked up before I realized I was gay.”

“You told them when you were eleven?”

Connor snorted. “Fuck no. I was a depressed and scared little kid. And self-destructive, obviously. I kept that closet door locked for years.”

Evan was silent for a long time.

“Which I don’t recommend, by the way,” Connor added, giving him a significant look. “Being in the closet sucks. All it did was pull me further away from them and make it easier to—” he cut himself off.

“Yeah,” Evan said so that Connor knew he didn’t have to fill in that blank. He thought about letting go of the tree, thinking it didn’t matter because no one really knew him anyway. He trailed his fingers absently over his cast, hidden under Connor’s hoodie and branded with his name.

They pulled into the Murphys' driveway and Connor cut the engine. His eyes landed on Evan’s broken arm before jumping up to his face. “C’mon,” he said, and Evan was struck by how often he said that little contraction. ‘Come on, follow me,’ he said in less words. The blind leading the blind.

The house was dark and quiet, and they tried not to make a sound as they made their way up the stairs and down the hall to Connor’s room. 

Evan sat against his bed, messing with his phone and wondering if his mom would text him back, worrying that he’d texted her while she was driving and she read it and got in a wreck and now she was injured or dead on the side of the road somewhere and it was all his fault because he didn’t want to talk—

Connor re-emerged from the bathroom in gray sweatpants and a different t-shirt, though the hoodie remained firmly in place. And Evan’s brain immediately turned off because Connor had put his hair up again which was just so unfair.

He shut off the light and crawled into the bed next to Evan, pushing at the other boy to make him lie down and then yanking the covers up around them.

Evan stared at him and knew for a fact it was going to take him forever to fall asleep when he had the option of mapping out every single curve on Connor’s face. Then his eyes opened and Evan wished he could see the blue of them in the dark.

Their hands found each other under the sheets.

“I have to tell you something,” Connor whispered.

“You’ve told me a lot tonight already.”

“I know. It’s cos I’m sleep deprived.” His eyes blinked slowly in emphasis, like it was harder for him to open them now. “I’m glad I found you.”

Evan’s mind flashed. He was lying on the ground next to a forty foot oak tree. “What— what do you mean?”

“In the computer lab,” he clarified, words starting to slur a bit. “I was looking for you.”

Evan remembered the letter he’d been writing at the time. Did Connor know—? No, he couldn’t. He hadn’t even gotten to finish it before Connor showed up. It was still an incomplete document on his computer. “Why?” he managed to get out around the lump in his throat.

“Wanted to try,” Connor said vaguely. His eyes were closed and Evan sort of wanted to shake him awake and force him to make sense. “Wanted to make you smile. Before I left.”

Evan’s heart stopped for more reasons than one. “Left?” he repeated, because that was more pressing. “Left school?”

Connor mumbled something incoherent and then he was obviously asleep, leaving Evan to stare at him with his mouth hung open in shock.

The note, devoid of positive reinforcement, ran through his head.

_It turns out today wasn’t an amazing day after all. This isn’t going to be an amazing week or an amazing year because… why would it be?_

_I’ve got no friends and no life and no hope of ever finding one. So what’s the point? Why keep going on like this if nothing is ever going to be different?_

_I wish that everything was different. I wish that I was a part of something. I wish that anything that I said mattered to anyone. I mean, face it: would anybody even notice if I disappeared tomorrow?_

He hadn’t gotten to sign it. He knew he wasn’t going to show it to Dr. Sherman anyway. He couldn’t even get to his appointment since his mother had bailed. He was going to print it out and fold it up in his pocket and swallow a bottle of Xanax long before Heidi was supposed to come home. That was the plan.

But then Connor showed up, and he jumped out of his chair and forgot about the letter altogether. Then his cast wasn’t blank and Connor had said that thing about being friends. 

And it wasn’t like he thought ‘Well, I guess I won’t kill myself now’ but it was more like the plan got shoved to the back of his mind as he instead spent the rest of the afternoon staring at his arm and wondering if it meant anything.

But what had Connor meant? Wanted to make him smile? Like the boy in the story? Was _Evan_ the boy in the story?

No. No, he couldn’t be. Connor had said that he was the most beautiful boy in the world. Evan could never be that. Evan was plain at best and all together weird looking at worst. And he always looked stupid when he smiled. His face scrunched up so his eyes wouldn’t stay open and his cheeks got even bigger than they already were. Jared told him one time that it was unsettling when he smiled and that had stuck with Evan. There’s no way he could inspire anyone, much less Connor, to make _art._ That was just ridiculous. The sort of thing that only happened to other people. Not Evan. Things just didn’t happen to Evan. 

_Connor_ was the first thing to happen to Evan in a long time. The first person to notice his pathetic existence.

Evan squeezed his eyes shut and fought back the panic that was threatening to spill over. He couldn’t do that again. He just needed to sleep. He’ll go to sleep and it will all make sense in the morning. Maybe he’s been sleeping this entire time. Maybe this whole week has just been one long dream. Maybe he did go through with it and this was a coma. That would make the most sense. Why would Connor Murphy ever care about him? He wasn’t worth caring about.

In his sleep, Connor shuffled closer to Evan. He let go of Evan’s hand as their legs tangled together, and then Evan felt an arm wound around his waist.

Something inside Evan caved as every cell in his body told him to let go. It was so similar to that time in the tree, but this time it didn’t feel like giving up. It felt like giving in. He was falling and it was just as terrifying, but this time he might not break. This time someone is there, waiting to catch him.

He fell asleep as he fell in love. 

Evan predictably woke up before Connor. They were still cuddled together, and Evan absently pulled his hand up to brush away the strands of hair that had fallen out of Connor’s bun and into his face. He spent a good thirty minutes just staring at him, wondering how anyone could ever think he was dangerous. Connor looked so peaceful in his sleep, far more than he ever did awake— even at his best. A small smile played at the corner of his lips, and Evan wished he could know what he was dreaming about.

Evan heard his phone vibrate on the nightstand and he forced himself to roll out of Connor’s loose hold. His heart broke as Connor let out a little displeased noise in his sleep, his arm subconsciously chasing after Evan and landing on the boy’s stomach.

Evan grabbed his phone as Connor’s hand migrated to his hip and held on.

 **Zoe:** _are you in my house?_

 **Evan:** _Uh, yes, sorry._

 **Zoe:** _why are you sorry?_

 **Evan:** _Oh, um, I don’t know. In case that’s a problem?_

 **Zoe:** _it’s not a problem._

 **Evan:** _Okay._

 **Zoe:** _is connor still asleep?_

 **Evan:** _Yep._

 **Zoe:** _yeah he sleeps till like noon._

 **Zoe:** _u don’t have to hide in there. come down stairs. we have cereal._

 **Evan:** _Oh._

 **Zoe:** _and don’t worry. my parents aren’t here._

 **Evan:** _Right._

Maybe it was just a Murphy gene to be able to predict all of Evan’s anxieties. Not that he wasn’t also anxious about eating cereal alone with Zoe. But it would probably be rude not to now, right? Not to mention creepy: ‘No thanks, Zoe. I’d rather stay here and watch your brother sleep.’

He carefully took Connor’s hand away from his hip and maneuvered out of the bed with as little motion as possible. Evan watched as Connor frowned and rolled into the space that Evan had previously occupied, shoving his face into the pillow and inhaling deeply. _Maybe that was normally his side of the bed?_

Evan put his phone in his hoodie pocket and tip toed out the room, shutting the door quietly behind him before making his way downstairs.

Zoe was sitting at the dining room table, feet pulled up into the chair with her. “Goodmorning,” she said when Evan entered, her messy bun wobbling precariously as she nodded to the place setting adjacent to her with an empty bowl and spoon. “We only have soy milk, sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Evan answered honestly, taking the seat and picking up the Special K branded cereal box. “Soy is better for the environment than cows.”

Zoe scrunched her face up. “How?”

“O-oh, uh, cows produce a lot of methane? Which is fine for like _one cow._ But cattle farms have hundreds on huge plots of land which have been clear cut— which, which is just terrible for a whole host of reasons. Clear cutting destroys ecosystems and basically— uh, basically turns the whole area into one like, massive carbon source. And— and big agriculture is one of the world’s biggest sources of greenhouse gases— and a big part of that is just meat and dairy production? Beef requires like, twice as much land as any other meat like chicken or pork or whatever so it’s— yeah, cows aren’t great,” he finished lamely.

“Damn…” Zoe let out slowly, and Evan was sort of waiting for her to inform him how weird he was. “But cheese is so good.”

That surprised a laugh out of him. “You— you got me there.”

“Don’t say that around my parents, though,” Zoe warned. “My mom’s already on this vegan thing, but it will only last longer if she’s got science to back her up. And that might get Dad on board.”

“I’m— I’m sure your dad already knows all that, Zoe. It’s not like… um. It’s widely known, anyway. There’s— there’s a documentary on Netflix.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? What’s it called?”

He flushed and winced slightly. “Um, _Cowspiracy_?”

“Oh my god.”

“I didn’t name it!”

“That’s _hilarious,_ holy shit.” She picked her phone up and started typing rapidly. “Oh my god, it’s real. That’s a real, actual thing that exists. What the fuck.” She continued scrolling through the Google search results incredulously.

Evan finally managed to pour the soy milk. He preferred soy milk, actually. And he could easily live without beef. Cows were really only good for cheese and ice cream.

“Okay, but have you seen this?” Zoe flipped her phone around to show her a picture which was aptly named ‘fluffy cow’ and Evan nearly choked on his cereal.

“Okay, nevermind, I take it back. That thing can destroy the environment all it wants.”

Zoe nodded in agreement. “I’d give this cow my first born child.”

“I’d die for that cow,” Evan shot back quickly.

“Same.” She turned her phone back around as Evan laughed. Based on her face she continued scrolling through photos of fluffy cows. “Ohmygosh look! It’s Connor!” She proudly presented Evan with an image of a little black cow whose fluffy hair had grown out and covered its face.

“I take it back,” Evan said. “I would die for _that_ cow, specifically.”

Zoe grinned and put her phone down. Then she leaned forward on her elbows in a way that made Evan’s stomach turn. “So, I am Connor’s little sister…” she started.

Evan cleared his throat. “Um… yeah?”

“So therefore I’m like, legally obligated to ask you if you’re in love with him.”

He choked on air and completely failed to breathe. “It— we’re— he’s— _connorsmybestfriend!_ ” It came out all scratchy and gross and entirely too fast.

“Uh-huh…” Zoe looked entirely too amused. “That’s not really an answer, Evan.”

He just stared at her, unable to form words.

She sighed. “I guess your silence speaks louder than words, anyway.” She rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m not saying you two shouldn’t date. Clearly, you’re really good for each other… I’m just worried you’ll end up getting hurt.”

Evan tried really hard not to get annoyed with her, but he couldn’t help it. “What do you mean?” he asked coldly.

“Stop glaring at me, Evan.” Zoe crossed her arms. “Connor and I used to be close too, y’know. And then the next thing I know he’s trying to knock down my door and threatening to kill me. He’s not like you. His bad days are scary, okay? No one should have to put up with that.”

Evan’s anger flared. “Yeah, imagine how scary it must be for _him,_ ” he bit out, and Zoe’s eyes widened slightly. He let out a long breath, willing his defensiveness away. “Look, I’m— I’m sorry you had to go through that. That sounds— horrible and I’m sure you were scared, and— and I wish that hadn’t happened. You— you don’t deserve that. And I know— I know it must suck always having to be the good kid. Because your parents are always so worried about your brother, you have to make sure they don’t have to worry about you too, right?”

Zoe nodded, looking small but also open. Evan could imagine no one has ever noticed that before. It would be easy to forget her perspective in the middle of everything Connor was going through.

“But Connor’s _trying._ And that’s— that's really hard. Do you know how easy it is to give up when your brain is just constantly screaming at you? He’s always at war with his own mind and I— trust me, it _sucks._ And you know what really doesn’t help? Being at war with everybody else at the same time. I know, _I know,_ he’s probably pushed you and your parents away. That’s because he’s terrified of hurting you. Because sometimes he doesn’t have complete control over his words and actions and that’s _scary._ For everyone. But he still needs people to trust him. Because otherwise what’s the point?”

Zoe kept her eyes pinned to her knees, finger tracing the pattern on her pajama bottoms. “Do you know what happened, freshman year?” she asked quietly.

Evan nodded but she still wasn’t looking at him. “Yeah,” he answered.

“Our mom found him but… I was home too. There was so much blood…” her voice broke and she quickly wiped at her tears. “Y’know, I can still hear her scream? That was… that was the worst day of my life. I thought he was— we all thought—”

“Yeah,” Evan whispered.

“I can’t go through that again.” Her head snapped back up, and Evan finally understood. She was terrified of letting Connor in again— of seeing him as anything other than a monster. Because then it would only hurt more when he was gone.

They were very similar, the Murphy siblings.

“Your— your brother is still here, Zoe. He’s still capable of being good and doing good. He _wants_ to. You saw that.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.” Evan had never felt more sure of anything in his life. Connor had already helped him so much in just the last week of knowing him. 

“I’m glad he found you,” she said, and it wasn’t exactly a concession, but it was something.

“Me too.”

Evan’s skin was crawling and his knee was shaking. He pushed away from the table, not knowing _what_ he needed other than to get somewhere else. “I’m gonna…” he started, hoping he would be able to figure it out by speaking, but when that didn’t work he just shook his head and spun around.

He more or less ran up the stairs back to Connor’s room. The relief he felt upon seeing him though was immediately eclipsed by the look on Connor’s face.

He was standing in the middle of his room, hoodie discarded haphazardly at his feet as his hands pulled at his hair, a mixture of sadness, anger, and panic marring his features. His head snapped up almost as soon as the door opened. He looked like he was about to scream until he realized that it was Evan staring back at him with wide, worried eyes, brow furrowed in confusion.

“What’s—” Evan started, but he was cut off as Connor pulled him in roughly, shutting the door behind them as he crushed Evan in a hug.

“What the _fuck?_ ” Connor growled into Evan’s shoulder, but there was little bite to it. He sounded more like a scared little boy than anything.

“I—” Evan didn’t know what to say. Did Connor think he left? His shoes and his bag were still in here right next to the door. But maybe his rational brain wasn’t working today. That’s okay. Evan could handle that. He wound his arms around Connor’s waist and hugged him back. “I’m sorry.”

Connor pulled away suddenly, pushing at Evan’s shoulders and putting space between them again. “I thought you fucking left!”

“I’m sorry,” Evan repeated, holding his hands out palms side up between them. “I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere. Unless you want me to.”

“I don’t!” Connor snapped, still shouting, his eyes wide, panicked, and angry.

It was strange how easy Evan found it to remain calm. Normally he couldn’t handle people yelling at him. But he could see the fear behind Connor’s eyes. Like a scared and injured dog. “Okay, then I won’t. I don’t want to leave you,” he replied, and thanked God when Connor’s shoulders started to fall. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“You left!” he spit out. It was accusatory but also vulnerable, his voice breaking just enough for Evan to hear. “I woke up and you were just fucking gone!” He made a sharp gesture towards the empty bed.

The response just flowed out of Evan, years worth of rambling making sure he covered all his bases. “You’re right, I did step out of the room for a second while you were asleep. I’m sorry that I scared you. What made you think I wasn’t coming back?”

That’s when Connor’s eyes landed on Evan’s shoes and it seemed to crash down on him that he’d reacted impulsively. He looked back up to Evan like he was waiting to be reprimanded.

Evan’s heart broke at that look. He stretched his arm out to cover the distance between them, but carefully didn’t step forward. They stood there like that for a few beats, Evan’s hand just a few inches from Connor’s arm, until finally Connor fell forward, curling back around Evan.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into his shirt.

“It’s okay. I understand.” Evan hugged him again, tighter this time.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“No, but I forgive you. I wasn’t scared.”

Connor pulled back at that, but kept his arms around him. He stared at Evan. “What?” he asked, like he couldn’t believe someone wouldn’t be scared of him.

Evan kind of wanted to wrap Connor in a million blankets and tell the rest of the world to fuck off. _Screw everyone who ever hurt this poor boy._

He reached up to run his thumb along Connor’s cheekbone. “I’m not scared of you, Connor,” he said firmly. “I trust you.”

And then Connor just sort of dissolved. His face crumbled and he pulled Evan back to him. Evan felt tears wetting his neck as Connor mumbled, “You can’t be real.”

“I am,” Evan answered, because he sensed Connor needed the reassurance. “Maybe not as real as the boy you saw at Ellison six years ago, but…”

Connor snorted, arms tightening as he shook his head into Evan’s shoulder. “Dumb,” he muttered.

Evan was proud of himself for getting Connor to laugh. Gently, he pulled back and took his hand, guiding him back to the bed so they wouldn’t have to continue standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

He sat back against the headboard while Connor curled into his side, throwing his legs over Evan’s lap.

Evan looked down and realized this was the first time he was seeing Connor’s arms. Even in the orchard and after getting soaked in the rain he’d kept his hoodie on. But now Connor’s forearms were on full display, right in front of Evan’s face.

And Evan was surprised. Because it wasn’t as bad as he’d assumed. (His arms were nothing compared to Evan’s thighs, anyway.) There were lots of scars, some darker and some paler, some flat while others were raised. But none of them were new. 

He couldn’t stop his hand from reaching out and running reverently over the healed skin. “You stopped,” he whispered, not really meaning to.

He felt Connor tense. He tried to pull away but Evan caught his wrist before he could. “Evan—” he started to protest weakly.

“Sorry, I…” he loosened his grip but didn’t let go, and Connor gave him a weary look but didn’t try to take his arm back again. “I’m just— I’m proud of you, that’s all. That’s— that’s really hard.”

Connor’s eyes narrowed and he briefly glanced down to Evan’s casted left arm. “Do you…”

Evan swallowed thickly. “Not— not my arms. I don’t want anyone to…” _see how broken I really am._

Connor was quiet for a long time, just studying Evan’s face as Evan wholly refused to look at him. Eventually he shifted to the side and Evan had to curl his fingers into his palm to keep from chasing after him. _He knows now. He knows how messed up you are. He’s doing better than you are. He doesn’t need you to drag him down with your pathetic bullshi—_

“Will you show me?” he asked quietly, and Evan’s heart stopped.

He finally looked up to him, eyes wide and fearful and so _so_ vulnerable, but Connor just looked back at him with so much care. 

“You don’t want to…” Evan squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a shuddering breath. “You don’t want to see.” _No one gets to see._ “I don’t even… No.” He shook his head frantically. He couldn’t even look at himself. No one else should have to.

“Okay, okay,” Connor answered quickly, grabbing Evan’s hand and letting him squeeze the life out of his. “You don’t have to show me, Ev. I’m not gonna make you. I’m not mad. Hey, look at me.”

Evan managed to pry his eyes open and he realized he was crying.

“You’re okay,” Connor said. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

 _You’re okay. It’s okay. We’re okay._ Evan chanted it back to himself, attempting to steady his breathing. He focused on the steady rise and fall of Connor’s chest and worked on matching that instead of attempting to remember how to count. 

_You’re okay. It’s okay. We’re okay._

When Evan was no longer hyperventilating and his tears had dried, Connor spoke again, “I think today is an orchard day.”

Evan huffed out a little breath and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Connor stood up and pulled Evan with him. “I’m gonna go change in the bathroom and you can get ready out here, okay?”

“Okay.”

Connor smirked, “Okay.” He let go and disappeared into the bathroom.

Evan stared at the closed door for a few seconds, trying to figure out what just happened. How had it gone from him comforting Connor to the other way around so quickly? Could he not be the strong one for longer than five minutes? Connor must hate him. _You always make everything about yourself. You’re so selfish. He deserves better than you. You’re useless and pathetic._

Shaking himself, Evan managed to make his feet move to his bag. He got dressed as quickly as possible and dug his medicine out as well. The prozac wasn’t working anymore but he took it anyway. He’d already skipped it yesterday and if he did that again today he’d be nauseous.

There was a knock from the other side of the bathroom door which was just weird enough to make Evan’s skin crawl and forget to respond.

“Ev? You decent?” Connor called.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah.” It wasn’t as loud as he meant for it to be but Connor heard it anyway and opened the door.

He started putting on his shoes and Evan went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He did his best to avoid his reflection, but he got enough glimpses of his puffy eyes and unruly hair to know he looked like as much of a mess as he felt.

When he re-emerged, Connor was nowhere to be seen so Evan made his way downstairs, passing Zoe in the living room and finding Connor in the kitchen, shoving a granola bar in his mouth as he made sandwiches.

He spoke up when he spotted Evan watching him. “These aren’t gonna be as good as what I could make at your house but…” he shrugged and took another bite of granola bar while the other hand spread natural peanut butter on toasted whole grain bread.

Evan stepped forward and picked up the strawberry jam jar, unsurprised to find the fancy gourmet label stuck to the side. There was no way Cynthia Murphy shopped anywhere but Whole Foods.

Connor wrapped the sandwiches and grabbed fruit and carrots from the fridge, shoving it all in a tote bag he found under the sink. He led Evan back out of the kitchen and out the front door. Zoe looked up to watch them go but otherwise didn’t comment.

Evan finally realized what Connor meant about his house feeling confining when he got in the car and felt like he could breathe properly for the first time in hours. Something about being in a place that picture-perfect made existing as himself in there feel wrong and unnatural. He was glad neither one of them felt the need to speak because he definitely needed a second to get his head back.

They made it about ten minutes before Connor sighed and broke the silence. “Do you have your phone on you?” he asked.

Evan bit the inside of his cheek, wondering where this was going. “Yeah?”

“Okay. I’m gonna try really hard to not sound like a parent right now. But you really need to call your doctor and tell them your meds aren’t working.”

“O-oh.” Evan’s hands were sweaty. He could already feel the panic rising in the back of his throat.

Connor powered through, speaking over the voice in Evan’s head. “And it’s not because I think you’re a mess or whatever bullshit your head is telling you right now. It’s because _you told me_ they aren’t working. And it’s fucking important that you have appropriate levels of serotonin, Ev.”

Evan blew out a shaky breath. “R-right.”

“I just want you to feel better. And that’s not like a fucking simple thing to do, obviously. But meds make it a hell of a lot easier.”

“Right, you’re right.” Evan was attempting to psych himself up to call. He hated calling people. He _hated_ it. And especially calling Dr. Sherman because she always asked if he needed to talk when he _couldn’t—_ not over the phone like that. He could barely speak in person as it was.

Connor glanced at him sideways. “I can do the actual calling part,” he offered, “but you’ll have to speak.”

“Y-you don't have to—” he cut himself off as Connor pretty much immediately pulled off to the side of the road and held his hand out for Evan’s phone. Evan gave it to him before he could stupidly deny the offer again.

“Do you want to write down what you’re gonna say?” he asked and Evan nodded frantically. Connor pulled up the notes app on his own phone and handed it over.

“Uh-um— Okay.” He cleared his throat. “Uh, she’s, she’s probably gonna— gonna say ‘hello’ first so I’ll have to— um…”

“Say hi,” Connor supplied.

“Right.” Evan typed out the two letter word, feeling ridiculous. He hit the return key. “A-and then— then she’ll ask, um, why— why I called, and— and if— if everything’s, um, okay.”

“So you’ll say that you’re okay, but that you feel like your meds aren’t really working anymore.”

Evan wrote that down in first person, whispering it to himself and changing the order a few times until it sounded as normal as possible. Connor let him do this without any comment.

“She’ll— she’ll, uh, probably ask, um, which ones?”

“And you’ll tell her the prozac.”

Evan nodded and wrote down the name of his medication, knowing that he’d forget it if he didn’t. He looked back up to Connor. “What— what if I just get her voicemail?”

Connor gestured to what Evan already had written down. “Write what you have in paragraph form. That way you can just read that if you have to leave a message.”

He chewed his lip as he did that.

“You ready?” Connor asked, and Evan saw he had Dr. Sherman’s contact pulled up on his phone. He nodded and Connor hit the call button.

Luckily, Dr. Sherman mostly followed the script. She did ask why he thought it wasn’t working and when the last time he took it was, and Evan had minorly freaked out until Connor took his hand and mouthed ‘speak to me.’ It made it easier to pretend he was telling Connor. His face was a good substitute for the one he couldn’t see on the other end of the line— the one his brain was convinced was annoyed with him, despite the calm and pleasant tone.

When the call ended Evan had to sit there for a few minutes to get his breathing under control.

“I’m proud of you,” Connor said.

Evan let out a derisive snort. “I’m pathetic.”

“I’ve never thought that,” Connor said firmly, and it was somehow better than ‘no you’re not.’ He put the car into drive and pulled back onto the road. “Y’know, this is week five of my new meds, and I was really about to lose it on Monday when they still weren’t doing anything.”

Evan had been through that before. It took four to six weeks for new medicine to have a noticeable effect, and the process of changing was almost always hell. Which is why he shouldn’t have waited the entire Summer to tell his therapist his meds weren’t working— all he’s done is prolonged his suffering. “They’re working now?” he asked Connor, probably for the reassurance that it would be worth it.

“I think so.”

Evan’s brow furrowed. “You don’t know?”

He smirked slightly. “Well it might just be you making all the dopamine.”

Evan flushed bright pink, sputtering. “Ohmygod, shut up,” he managed, rolling his eyes.

Connor grinned— entirely too proud of himself. “Never.”

Evan just shook his head and looked out the window as they passed Ellison. There was a little league team running around. Their parents were attempting to herd them away from the road while a photographer stood by, holding her camera out to the side as she waited for the children to calm down and get into whatever generic pose she had planned.

“My dad tried to make me do little league,” Evan said vaguely.

Connor glanced at him sideways. “Tried?”

“I went to one game and he screamed at me when I couldn’t make it on base. Had a panic attack and threw up in the dugout.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.” He sighed and picked at a loose thread in his jeans. “Not the best memory.”

“How old were you?”

“Uh… four or five, probably? Right before he stopped trying altogether.”

Connor let out a long breath. “Damn.” He shook his head and Evan kind of regretted sharing that story because Connor seemed really bothered by it. But then he went on, “My dad signed me up for little league too, but I actually didn’t hate it? It was one of those co-ed teams, y’know? So me and Zoe were on it together and Dad was one of the coaches…” He drifted off, features soft with reminiscence.

“That’s sweet,” Evan said quietly.

“Yeah, but in elementary school they split us up by gender and Dad couldn’t coach anymore so it kind of sucked. All the other boys hated me so,” he shrugged, “I ended up quitting.”

Evan frowned, feeling bad for little Connor who had to give up something he enjoyed because people were mean to him. He knew how that felt. “That happened with me and cub scouts. All the other boys made fun of me for liking trees so much.”

“Isn’t that _the point_ in scouts? Woods and shit?” Connor asked incredulously, not really managing to keep the righteous anger from his tone.

Evan chuckled. “I know right?”

“Boys are the worst.”

“They’re cute though,” Evan quipped, not really thinking about it, and Connor let out a surprised bark of laughter.

“You got me there, Ev.”

The road they were on was starting to get narrower as they moved further away from the city, lanes changing from four to two to one. There were more curves with every mile, and soon enough they were passing the old diner and A La Mode, and coming to a stop outside Autumn Smiles Apple Orchard.

Had he really only been here once? Had it really only been three days since? The place felt so significant for some reason, like he’d spent his entire life waiting to find it, and now that he had he couldn’t get it out of his head and heart. His chest ached with sudden longing as soon as he stepped out of the car, faced with the hill that hid the orchard proper from view.

Many orchards grew dwarf trees to make it easier for visitors and employees to harvest, but Autumn Smiles was not like other orchards. Their trees were twenty feet minimum, and some even reached 30, the trunks and branches thick from years of being undisturbed.

Evan spotted one that was perfect for climbing. So perfect that he could even manage it with just one working arm. He ran over to it before he could second guess himself. Jumping up and grabbing onto the lowest branch, he pulled himself up with one hand, keeping his cast close to his chest for safety.

“What are you doing?” Connor called up to him, and Evan looked down to see his best friend watching him with his arms folded.

“Climbing,” he answered briskly, and then struggled up to the next branch.

“Yeah, I got that.” Evan could practically hear the eye roll. “I meant _why._ ”

He got up about midway and situated himself so he was sitting, legs dangling above Connor’s head. “It’s fun. You should try it sometime.”

“How do you not have, like, PTSD from climbing trees?” Connor grumbled, but he started following Evan’s path up the trunk anyway. Evan was surprised at how good he was— it clearly wasn’t his first tree, but maybe his long legs were giving him an advantage. Soon enough he was hauling himself up onto the same branch and sitting next to him.

Evan’s face scrunched up. “It’s not the _tree’s_ fault I’m a mess.” It wasn’t until after he finished that sentence that he realized it was a weird thing to say about _falling._ But Connor didn’t seem to notice.

“Yeah, alright,” he agreed. He reached out and grabbed the nearest apple, twisting it expertly. He tossed it in the air before bringing it to his mouth and taking a bite.

“You really shouldn’t eat fruit before washing it,” Evan said, lips pursed as Connor took another bite.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah okay _mom._ ”

Evan snorted and reached out to grab an apple. He inspected it closely (looking for wormholes) before biting into it. Connor raised a brow at him. “What? I never said I wasn’t a hypocrite.” He smirked, “Though you should at least check if there’s any bugs in there before eating it.”

Connor’s eyes widened and he stopped chewing, quickly turning his apple around to make sure. When it was clearly worm-free he swallowed the last bite he took and looked back up to Evan. “I completely forgot about that bullshit. Y’know, when I was eight I did actually find a worm in my apple? I thought that kind of shit only happened in cartoons.”

Evan laughed. “Well, grocery store apples are checked before being put out. So most people will never have to worry about bugs in their fruit.” He swung his legs out in front of him while Connor hummed. “Cartoons always made me think quicksand was gonna be more of an issue than it’s turned out to be.”

Connor laughed and nodded. “I used to have so many stress dreams about quicksand… That and catching on fire. Remember in primary school when they felt the need to drill ‘stop, drop, and roll’ into our heads? I thought catching on fire was like some kind of right of passage or some shit. The way they talked about it, it seemed inevitable.”

“Oh my god, you’re so right. House fires too. Remember in fifth grade when they made us make those baking soda fire extinguishers?”

“And draw out a map of our house and have an escape plan? That shit was fucking insane.” Connor shook his head. “There used to be so many assemblies about all the shit that could kill us. Fire safety, D.A.R.E., those goddamn stranger danger ones?”

Evan huffed out a breath, remembering how he used to hold onto the cart at the grocery store with a white-knuckled grip, literally terrified of getting snatched and tossed into the trunk of someone’s car. “And yet the only anti-bullying assembly we had was some crazy lady with sock puppets and everyone made fun of her,” Evan added.

“They never even had one about safe sex. And health class was a joke. We’ve already lost like five girls in our year to teen pregnancy.”

“You make it sound like they died.”

Connor didn’t bother denying it. “I have a little sister. What do you expect? I’ve been in the next room over for every lecture she’s gotten about how having a kid in high school will ruin her life.”

Evan grinned. “They never warned you about getting some poor girl knocked up?”

“I came out when I was fourteen,” he replied dryly. “And I didn’t exactly have girls lining up before that. I don’t think ‘me and girls’ has _ever_ been a concern for them.”

Evan tilted his head back, following the holes in the canopy revealing bright patches of sky. “My mom tried to give me the talk, but I think she realized halfway through that I couldn’t even _talk_ to another human being, much less have sex with one.”

Connor snorted out a laugh. “You don’t think she’s got you figured out?”

“That would require her to actually spend more than five minutes in the same room as me.” His head fell back down and he caught the empathetic look Connor was giving him.

“If it makes you feel better, before yesterday I would have bet money you were straight.”

Evan wrinkled his nose. “Y’know, somehow, that does not make me feel better.”

Connor rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he laughed. “Evan Hansen: he’s been gay for less than 48 hours and he’s already waving a pride flag.”

“Technically I’ve been gay my entire life. I was just too clueless to figure it out.”

“Yeah, _Blue is the Warmest Color_ really should have tipped you off.”

Evan laughed. “To be fair I’ve never seen _Brokeback Mountain._ Maybe that would have helped.”

Connor groaned. “That movie is sad as fuck. Also there’s more of that bullshit with gay characters sleeping with people of the opposite gender. Even if it’s mostly justified cos everyone is homophobic as hell, it’s still annoying. But also Jack sleeps with other men even while he’s married and supposedly in love with Ennis so fuck that guy? I’m not gonna say he deserved to die but…”

“That’s harsh,” Evan observed, not really mad about having the movie spoiled for him. He wasn’t really ever planning on watching it anyway.

“Cheating just really pisses me off.” He tossed his unfinished apple through the branches and they heard it land with a thud below them.

Evan decided he didn’t want to know where that came from. “Why do I feel like you have an extensive list of acceptable queer movies?”

“Extensive? I wish. The fucking _complete_ list is short, nevermind acceptable.” He batted at a group of leaves, making a few fall to the ground. “Why do you think I know so many goddamn languages? Half of queer cinema is fucking German.”

“You know _German_ too?” Evan asked incredulously.

Connor huffed. “Listen, Ev, after you learn one second language all the others are fucking easy.”

“That’s not true. I know Hebrew and I can barely say my name in Spanish,” Evan argued.

“Your name in Spanish is _Evan,_ dumbass.”

Evan blinked, only just processing what he had said. He hit Connor’s arm. “Ohmygod, shut up. You know what I mean.”

“ _Pendejo._ ”

“Does that mean ‘dumbass’?”

“Basically.”

“So you learned fifteen languages to watch more gay movies and expand your curse word vocabulary?”

“Seven,” Connor mumbled.

“What?”

“I learned seven languages. Not including English. And I also did it to read more books, thank you very much.”

“ _Seven?_ ” Evan repeated, eyes bugging. “You do know books get _translated,_ right?”

Connor crossed his arms stubbornly. “Not all of them. And not well.”

“So, what? You were mad that there were books you couldn’t read so you just went ahead and learned six languages?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Ev, but I’m kind of stubborn—”

“I’ve noticed.”

Connor rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at him childishly. “Yeah, alright? It pissed me off that there was shit I couldn’t watch and books I couldn’t read because they were _in a different language._ I was a little kid with a fuck ton of time on my hands and a vendetta against the universe. And it was basically my way of saying ‘Fuck you I’ll do what I want.’”

“And it helped that no one was forcing you to do it,” Evan added, almost absently.

Connor squinted at him. “What?”

He shrugged. “People told you to learn how to ride a bike, but you learned how to skateboard instead, right? Or like, that one time in fifth grade when we were working with clay in art class and Mrs. White told us to make bowls but you made a massive clay spider… Or in gym class when they made us play dodge ball and you’d always get picked second to last but you still won nearly every time? Or like… everyone thinks you’re failing but you’re actually top of the class? You like proving people wrong. And, uh, not listening to authority. But like, in a way that they can’t do anything about without making themselves look bad. Like Mrs. White couldn’t be upset about the spider because it was _awesome._ And if anyone complained about you winning dodgeball they sounded like sore losers. And they can’t expel you for skipping because your test scores help the school too much. So it makes sense, I guess, to me, that at some point you’d see the existence of other languages as a personal challenge issued by humankind.”

Connor was staring at him. 

Evan squirmed uncomfortably, wondering if he could get so sweaty that he’d slip right off the branch and _actually fall_ this time. This thought was followed with the image of Connor catching him.

“I can’t believe you remember the spider,” he said eventually.

Evan finally met his eyes. “It was a cool spider.”

“I gave it to Zoe.”

“I wanted to ask you for it.”

“I would have given it to you.”

A beat.

Connor sighed. “You made me sound cool and aloof or whatever but it actually sucks feeling like the entire universe is out to get me.” His gaze finally left Evan’s face, landing on his own knees instead. He picked off an invisible piece of lint. “And it doesn’t matter that I can play sports or fix an engine or paint or cook or speak eight fucking languages. It’s never fucking enough. I’m always gonna be the angry freak who’s liable to kill everyone or himself.”

“So prove them wrong,” Evan said quietly, and Connor looked back up to him. “Live because they said you wouldn’t.”

“My therapist said I should live for myself.”

“Mine too. But that would require me to like myself enough to do anything for me.” Evan’s eyes drifted to the ground below them. He dropped his apple and watched it fall, bouncing off a few branches before landing in the grass and rolling, coming to a halt beside Connor’s. His hand moved to cover his cast. “Sometimes you just need a reason to hold on.”

There was a bit of silence, and then Connor spoke quietly, “Evan… did you really fall?”

He was surprised by how unsurprised by the question he was. Though he still couldn’t say it out loud. He just shook his head.

Connor’s hand went around his. Evan managed to pry his gaze away from the ground and up to his best friend. Connor spoke first, “I had a bottle of pills in my bag on Monday. I was gonna use it.”

Evan’s breath caught in his throat. To think he almost came so close to never having known Connor at all. “What changed your mind?”

“You asked if you’d see me tomorrow. I figured I could go one more day.”

Evan willed the tears away but they fell anyway. “And— and the next four days?” his voice was barely above a whisper.

“They were good. Better. I just… wanted more. I wanted more tomorrows.”

“Past tense?”

“Want,” Connor corrected. “Present tense. Maybe sometimes less than others but… it’s enough. I put the pills back.”

“I was writing a note,” Evan admitted suddenly. “In the computer lab, Monday when— when you found me. I didn’t have a clear plan yet but…”

“What changed your mind?” Connor repeated.

“Tomorrow didn’t have a question mark anymore.” Evan sighed, realizing that made no sense. “I just mean… you’re still… here, I guess. And that’s at least one answer. The concept of tomorrow doesn’t seem as meaningless.” He stuck his casted hand out, gesturing vaguely into the distance.

One time, Jared had spent a solid hour explaining the multiverse to Evan. It had come up because of comic books, but Jared had insisted that it was real. And now Evan was pretty much constantly haunted by the idea of other realities. Ones where he doesn’t have anxiety. Ones where his dad didn’t leave. Ones where he and Connor both killed themselves on the same day and the entire school assumed it was a suicide pact. There’s an infinite number of realities where that happened.

There’s probably some universe where he’s not anxious or depressed. _That_ Evan probably plays sports and dates girls. Straight Evan would probably be into Zoe because she looks kind of like Connor and Straight Evan and Gay Evan probably at least have similar taste.

Then Evan was picturing himself (or someone with his face anyway) with Zoe Murphy and he shuddered involuntarily.

“You okay?” Connor asked.

“Do you ever think about alternate universes?”

Connor thought about that for a long moment. He answered slowly, “I mean, not in so many words? I think about how things could be different in this universe. Like if I could time travel back to fifth grade and give you my clay spider or… I think a lot about that day at Ellison. If I had said something.”

Evan nodded silently. He really didn’t want to hear more about the boy at Ellison. “I thought nothing could ever be different,” he admitted.

“Past tense?”

“Past tense.” Evan paused, replaying the last twenty minutes. “Wait, did you say you can _fix a car?_ ”

Connor sighed, rolling his eyes. “You are way too easily impressed, Ev.”

“You just don’t know how impressive you are.” Evan felt kind of breathless. “You’re like, hyper-capable.”

“Capable of everything except functioning normally.” Connor groaned, leaning back as far as sitting on a tree branch would allow him, running his hands over his face and through his hair. “No matter how much I try, how many random bullshit skills I pick up, I’m still just… fucking depressed.”

“How do you have the motivation?” There were days Evan couldn’t even get out of bed, and he _knew_ Connor was the same. It got to the point where he had to make sure he showered on the good days (or less bad days anyway), nevermind learning how to speak Swahili or whatever.

“It’s less motivation and more pure spite… And ADHD. I’m not really great at prioritizing? It’s like, take a shower or learn how to change a tire. Eat or spend the entire day painting. Doing dumb shit is always gonna be more appealing than basic crap.”

“Is that why you learned to cook? To make it more interesting than just, making instant ramen?”

Connor shrugged. “Basically, yeah. I once went days without eating and ended up in the hospital. I wasn’t even trying to do that or anything I just couldn’t fucking be bothered. That’s when I was teaching myself Japanese.”

 _Japanese, right, of course._ Evan held back the impulse to shake Connor until he understood how insanely impressive that was.

“My mom wasn’t home for a week and half once and I didn’t eat that entire time,” Evan admitted. “I passed out in the hallway at school and woke up in an ambulance.”

Connor nodded. “Yeah, I remember that. Sixth grade, right?”

“You remember that?” Evan repeated incredulously. He’d gone back to school a week later and no one had said anything about it.

“Yeah, I was standing right next to you when it happened— scared the shit out of me. Teachers and paramedics were asking me what happened and I didn’t know what to say so I freaked out and ran away. Then some asshole started a rumor that I’d knocked you out. And when you didn’t show up for a while, it somehow developed into _I killed you_ which scared me even more.” He shook his head. “I thought I was going crazy, y’know? People were swearing up and down that they saw me punch you, and like I _knew_ that was bullshit, but my asshole brain was convinced that I blacked out and flew off the handle or some shit.”

Evan was devastated. “That’s _awful,_ Connor. I’m so sorry.”

Connor squinted at him. “It’s not _your_ fault.”

“I was the one who was too stupid to eat for a week and passed out at school.”

“Okay, I’m not gonna tell you that wasn’t stupid because it _was._ But I never thought ‘fuck Evan for passing out this is all his fault.’ I was fucking worried about you.”

Evan stared down at his hands, twisting them into knots. “No one else was,” he said quietly.

“I should have said something.”

He shrugged, “You were scared.”

“So were you,” Connor argued.

“I’m _always_ scared.” Evan sighed, letting go of his fingers because they were starting to hurt. He looked back up to find Connor studying him.

“Are you scared right now?” he asked.

“No,” Evan answered automatically, surprised to find he actually meant it. They’d talked about some heavy stuff, but it was all mutual. The voice in the back of his head didn’t have a leg to stand on. Not when Connor was looking at him with so much understanding and acceptance. He didn’t tell him he was _weird_ or _wrong_ or _pathetic._ “I think— You make me feel safe.”

Connor let out a soft disbelieving laugh. “I used to…” He trailed off, shaking his head, and Evan waited as he took a deep breath before continuing. “I used to daydream about hearing that. I had it all planned out, y’know? In my head. We’d be at Ellison and I would come to the rescue— real toxic masculinity hero complex bullshit. The dangers were always different —rabid squirrel, bitchy park ranger, you name it— but it always ended the same. ‘You saved me, Connor,’ and that fucking smile.”

He shook his head again and Evan’s heart broke. He’d always thought that was a weird expression: “heartbreak.” But he could feel this pain sharp and cracking in his chest and now he understood.

Connor went on, “But then we grew up. And shit happened and things just kept getting worse. And I realized I could never save anyone. I mean, how could I, right? I’m too broken to ever be able to hold anyone else up.”

Evan wanted to argue. He wanted to shout _you saved me, Connor,_ but he couldn’t get the words out of his mouth. They didn’t matter anyway. He wasn’t who Connor wanted to save. He wasn’t the boy in the story.

And then Connor looked over to him, eyes wide and terrified and so _so vulnerable._ And Evan thought no one had ever seen Connor like this. He would never let anyone else see him like this.

“One-hundred and twenty-seven,” Connor said.

Evan blinked. “What?”

“That’s how many times you’ve smiled this week,” he explained, and Evan tried to process that but he _couldn’t,_ and Connor just kept going. 

“Well, maybe not _every_ time. I only counted the really _real_ ones. The ones that reached your eyes. When you didn’t know you were doing it. And maybe you smiled like that when I wasn’t around too— I don’t know. But I just. I had to count them. Because I spent the last six years of my life waiting around for you to smile like that— whipping my head around every time someone fucking _mentioned_ a leaf. Even when you weren’t around! We didn’t have science together last year but I was still twisting around in my chair every single day. Like you’d just appear by sheer force of will. It’s just ingrained in me. I have a list in my head titled _Things That Make Evan Hansen Smile_ . And right at the very _top_ of that list was ‘Not Connor’ but then… then you smiled at me. The most beautiful boy I’d ever seen in my entire life smiled at me, Connor Murphy: Psychotic Freak. And then, _then_ you said ‘I don’t think you’re a freak, Connor. And I’m not scared of you.’ Just like that, on day, like, one and a half. And right then I knew I was screwed. Because all this time while I was filling journals with drawings of you, I never, _ever_ allowed myself to believe that you were anything more than a fantasy. I couldn’t talk to you because I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle being let down. But then, _but then—_ then you were _so much more_ than I ever could have imagined. You’re hilarious and brilliant and talented and proud and so fucking _nice._ You are the realest person I’ve ever met. You’re so much better than anything I could have ever dreamed up. And I know I don’t deserve you and you could probably never see me that way, and that’s fine, really, I’ll have you any way I can, even if it’s just as friends, but I need you to know that—”

And finally it was Evan’s turn to interrupt a ramble. He grabbed Connor by his uneven hoodie strings and pulled him into a kiss.

It was fast, only a handful of seconds, and their noses pressed together uncomfortably since neither one of them had had the wherewithal to tilt their heads. But it was a kiss, and it served its purpose. (And it still made Evan feel like he was on fire.)

He pulled back and Connor was staring at him with wide eyes. Evan watched him swallow and make an attempt at speech, but his mouth just opened and closed with no actual noise. Evan could feel the voice in his head creeping up on him again, telling him he’s misunderstood and ruined everything. He started to let go of Connor’s hoodie, an apology on his lips—

But then Connor was on his lips instead. Connor’s hands landed on his hips and Evan’s hands went up around his neck and they both tilted their heads this time.

Connor’s tongue poked out sort of experimentally, and Evan jumped slightly but parted his lips, allowing Connor to slip past, and all at once Evan understood what the big deal about kissing was. He whimpered slightly as their tongue brushed together and he felt Connor’s hands tighten around his waist.

They didn’t pull apart until the need for oxygen was too persistent to continue ignoring. They pressed their foreheads together and breathed the same air.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” Evan admitted quietly, already wanting to lean forward and do it again.

“Me neither,” Connor whispered, stamping out that pit of nervousness in Evan’s stomach that told him Connor was experienced and thought Evan was bad.

Evan shifted and suddenly remembered where they were. He giggled, accidentally making Connor pull back and raise his brows. “No, no, not you,” Evan assured him quickly, still grinning and blushing. “I just— I can’t believe my first kiss was _in a tree—_ like, like the song!”

“Ohmygod you’re so fucking cute,” Connor muttered, and then he was diving in and capturing his lips again.

Evan let out a little surprised noise but quickly melted into the kiss anyway. He fell back against the trunk of the tree, pulling Connor with him.

Connor’s hand landed on Evan’s thigh, gripping it in order to keep himself from falling while he continued to kiss him.

“Wait!” Evan exclaimed suddenly, pulling his mouth away and putting a hand on Connor’s chest. “I just— I just have to make sure. I was— I was the boy at Ellison?”

He looked back at him with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. “Obviously, Ev.”

Evan couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face and he revelled in the way that Connor’s whole demeanor softened in response. They were both in awe of each other. “So I was your gay awakening, then?” he teased, biting his lip and batting his eyes in faux innocence.

Connor closed his eyes, like he just couldn’t handle looking at him any longer. He was clearly fighting back a full smile, and Evan poked at his stomach, determined to see Connor’s teeth.

He sighed, eyes opening and finding Evan’s in an instant. “Of course.”

Evan grinned, feeling an unfamiliar sense of pride burst through his chest. He reached up and ran a thumb along Connor’s pronounced cheekbone. “You were mine too,” he whispered, grounding himself. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

Connor just shook his head and leaned down to kiss him softly. “No apologies necessary,” he whispered, pulling back.

Evan tried to chase his lips and nearly lost balance as he forgot to hold onto the tree. Connor’s arms immediately went around his waist, catching him before he could fall.

“Putting romantic cliches aside, a tree probably isn’t the safest place to make out,” Connor said, looking to the ground below him.

_Make out, make out, make out. You’re making out with Connor Murphy. You are going to climb down from this tree as quickly as humanly possible and you are going to continue making out with Connor Murphy._

For once the voice in Evan’s head was spitting straight facts and he was all too willing to listen to it. “Let’s climb down,” he said.

They didn’t so much ‘climb’ down as ‘scramble’— jumping to the ground as soon as they were sure they wouldn’t break an ankle. And then Evan was pushing Connor up against the trunk, running his hands through his hair and kissing him like his life depended on it.

Connor’s arms immediately found their place back around Evan’s hips, pulling him impossible closer until there was barely any space between them anywhere.

He pulled away with a muttered “fuck,” but Evan wasn’t willing to stop kissing him yet. He fell back onto his heels and found Connor’s neck instead, licking at the pulse point and sucking gently on the skin. He decided Connor was the best thing he’s ever tasted. _Old spice body wash, lavender shampoo, musk, pine needles, spearmint, coffee, faint traces of weed and ash, something sweet like chocolate._

“Jesus Christ,” Connor let out, and Evan felt hands land on his ass. He moaned and Connor took the opportunity to bring their mouths back together.

Evan whimpered when Connor squeezed his ass, and Connor practically growled in return, flipping them around so that Evan was against the tree. The angle was weird until Connor got tired of bending over and his hands drifted down to the back of Evan’s thighs. And the next thing Evan knew he was being hoisted into the air. His legs wrapped around Connor’s waist and he pulled on his hair to get him to tilt his head up.

“Why the fuck are you so strong?” Evan asked in between kisses.

“Of course you curse when you’re horny,” Connor laughed, biting at Evan’s lip. Then he moved down to suck on Evan’s neck and Evan threw his head back at the brand new wonderful sensation. He’d always had a weirdly sensitive neck— squirming away whenever someone happened to touch him there. But that was turning out to be a positive thing now.

“Fuck, Connor,” he breathed, hands running mindlessly through his hair. The cursing was new to him too. He’s never been this turned on before. He pulled Connor’s face back up to his own and kissed him passionately, their tongues brushing together in a way that Evan swore he could get drunk off of.

“Evan,” Connor whispered, pulling away just enough to look at him. “Tell me this isn’t a one time thing.”

Evan frowned, suddenly returning to earth. He wriggled in Connor’s arms until he set him back on the ground. Then he put his hands against Connor’s chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat. He forced himself to look up and make eye contact. “Connor Lawrence Murphy, I don’t think I could give you up if I had to.”

He heard Connor let out a small relieved breath and Evan hated that he felt the need to hold it in the first place. “Good. Good. That’s—”

“Good?” Evan couldn’t help but tease.

“Shut up,” Connor laughed.

“Make me,” Evan said in a sudden fit of daring.

Connor wrapped his whole arm around Evan’s waist at that, dipping him slightly as he kissed him. Evan was sure if it wasn’t for the arm holding him up, he would have fallen from the sheer amount of passion behind the kiss. It was exactly what he was hoping for, and Connor cut it off too soon.

Apparently Evan pouted outwardly because Connor laughed and tapped his nose. “C’mon,” he said lightly, loosening his hold on Evan. “Let’s go to the field.” He bent down to pick up the bag he’d left at the base of the tree before climbing.

They held hands as they walked through the orchard towards the clearing they’d found on Wednesday. “So when did you learn to climb?” Evan asked, replaying the (very attractive) image of Connor climbing up to him. And the fact that he’d managed to kiss Evan while in the tree meant he had to have spent at least some time climbing.

Connor turned bright pink and Evan was suddenly very glad he asked. Connor rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand, glancing at Evan sideways before staring straight ahead of them instead as he mumbled, “I used to sit in the trees at Ellison.”

Evan smirked, “Looking for someone?”

“Shut up.”

“That’s cute.”

“I was eleven.”

“I just… I’m still in shock,” Evan admitted as they reached the edge of the field. They walked out to the middle and Connor took the blanket out of the bag, laying it out for them.

“From…?” he prompted, sitting down and motioning for Evan to sit across from him.

“Just… you.” Evan looked up and saw Connor still didn’t get it so he sighed and went on. “ _No one_ notices me, Connor. If you told that story to anyone and had them guess who you were talking about, they’d make it through the entire school roster before they said my name— if they even remembered I exist.”

“They’re missing out,” Connor said. And Evan liked that he didn’t deny that he was invisible— he didn’t feel the need to lie to Evan for some false sense of comfort. They both knew where they stood in the social hierarchy and there was no point in acting like it wasn’t true. And he didn’t say ‘well you should put yourself out there’ because he understood that that was both improbable and the exact opposite of what he wanted. Evan didn’t need the whole school to know his name (that sounded like a nightmare), he just needed one person to care.

And that person was Connor.

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” he said simply, and Evan barely had time to nod before Connor was leaning forward and pressing their lips together.

The angle was weird with their knees pulled up between them, so Evan took it upon himself to crawl into Connor’s lap, straddling his hips.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Connor muttered, wrapping his arms around him.

Evan shivered— no one had ever called him _hot_ before. He loved it. He loved the shot of adrenaline and confidence the words pumped into his system. Especially when it was so mindless— so uncalculated on Connor’s part. He said it because he meant it.

They stayed like that for a while, lazily exploring each other’s mouths in the warm sunlight, hands roaming absently as they did. Until finally the long kisses turned into short punctuated ones as they both pulled away, smiling goofily at each other.

“You’re really good at that,” Evan whispered.

Connor chuckled. “You too.”

He was glowing, his hair turning golden in the sun and curling around his face. Evan reached up to tuck an errant lock behind his ear. “You’re beautiful,” he said, eyes wide as he scanned Connor’s features, memorizing the shape of him. “One time, sophomore year, Mrs. Wolfe gave us an assignment— I think it was just busy work, really, cos it was the end of the year and she never even collected them. But, uh, it was— we were supposed to describe someone else in the class. I dunno. I just looked over and you were sitting on the— the other side of the room, not paying attention? I think. And I thought you probably wouldn’t notice if I kept looking at you. So— so yeah, I wrote about you. You were by the lamp and your hair was doing this—” he made a vague gesture to Connor’s hair right now “—this glow-y thing. The only word I could think of to describe you was ‘ethereal’ and— and since then that’s been like, the only thing I could think. Every time I saw you my brain just went ‘ethereal.’ That’s— that’s really embarrassing, actually, I don’t know why—”

Connor cut him off with a kiss and Evan made a little surprised noise before kissing him back, thinking he could get used to this. He might have to ramble even more often if it earned him kisses. 

“You’re adorable,” Connor said when he pulled back. “But also how the fuck did you think that and not realize you were gay? That’s like, super gay, Ev.”

Evan turned bright pink. “I’ve told you I’m hopeless.”

“Nah,” Connor dismissed easily. He grabbed Evan by the hips and rolled them, putting Evan on his back. He dove down and kissed him again. “I really don’t think I’m ever gonna be able to stop kissing you,” he said, punctuating it with another press of lips.

“That’s fine by me,” Evan mumbled, laughing slightly as Connor barely let him finish that sentence.

Eventually Connor fell onto his side. They continued to make out for a bit but it devolved into light touches and more eye-contact than either one of them had ever had in their entire lives. 

“Oh shit,” Connor said suddenly, making Evan jump slightly.

“What?” Evan asked, flicking his gaze away from where’d he’d been tracing Connor’s lips to meet his eyes.

“I brought food,” he said, sitting up and reaching for the bag.

Evan pouted as he was suddenly not being touched _at all_ and that just would not do. “I’m not hungry,” he said, tugging on the back of Connor’s hoodie to try and get him to come back.

“You ate like two spoonfuls of cereal four hours ago, Ev,” Connor replied sternly, still going about unpacking the food. “You need to eat.”

Evan distantly wondered if Zoe had told on him or if Connor had seen the unfinished cereal bowl he’d accidentally left on the table. “I also ate an apple,” he argued, sitting up and leaning back on his hands.

“You took a single bite of that apple, Evan.” He turned and handed over the sandwich he’d made earlier. “Eat.”

Evan’s eyes narrowed as he took the sandwich. “Is this what dating you is gonna be like?”

Connor snorted. “Yes, definitely. I don’t want a repeat of sixth grade, thanks very much.” He took a bite of his own sandwich and swallowed. “I can already hear the rumors: Resident Psychopath Starved His Poor Innocent Boyfriend to Death.”

Evan bit his lip. “Boyfriend?” he repeated.

Connor’s eyes widened. “Oh. Uh, yeah? I mean, is— is that okay? If you want— um—”

Evan leaned forward to kiss him softly. “Yeah, that’s okay,” he said, keeping his hand on Connor’s cheek. “I— I, um, _really_ like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm-hm,” Evan nodded, punctuating it with another kiss before he pulled away. He took a bite of the sandwich and swallowed before speaking again. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“I care about you, Ev.”

“I know.” And he did. Connor was the only person who Evan had ever been sure cared about him. Even his mom left him wondering sometimes, but Connor just cared _so much,_ it couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. Especially after everything he told him today. Evan was still sort of waiting to wake up.

“I care about you too,” he added. What he wanted to say was ‘I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you’ but he knew that would be too much too soon— even if it is true.

They finished their sandwiches quickly and Evan thought they could go right back to making out but Connor made him eat the carrots too. He munched on one thoughtfully until finally he asked, “Your birthday is in November, isn’t it?”

Connor’s brow furrowed. “Uh, yeah? How did you know that?”

Evan shrugged. “In second grade Ms. G had that birthday wall and I spent like a good portion of that year memorizing it instead of paying attention. I don’t remember the dates anymore but I still associate like half of our year with their birth month.”

“That’s cute,” he said casually. “So, what do you think, am I a Scorpio or a Sagittarius?”

Evan tried to remember anything he knew about the zodiac signs. Jared had gone through a phase freshman year and he still referenced it all the time (usually just to be a dick). He’d said something about Evan needing to find a Scorpio once, didn't he? “Uh, Scorpio?” he guessed.

“Did you just guess that because it’s easier to say than Sagittarius?” 

Evan gave him a bored look. “I can say Sagittarius, Connor.”

Connor laughed and threw his hands up. “I stand corrected. But you’re right, anyway. November 7th. Scorpio.”

“11-7,” Evan mumbled, not really meaning to.

“Uh, what?”

Evan cleared his throat. “Uhm, sorry. My— my birthday is July 11th— which, which is 7-11, so it’s. I don’t know. My brain just thought that. Randomly. Which is weird. Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Connor assured him easily. “That’s cool. We have reverse birthdays.”

 _Oh no I love him._ Why did Connor saying something as dorky as ‘reverse birthdays’ make Evan want to crawl on top of him and demand they get married yesterday? He let out a little goofy laugh instead and nodded.

“So does that mean you’re seventeen or eighteen?”

“O-oh, seventeen,” Evan answered quickly. “If I was eighteen I would have run away by now.”

“How very Cancer of you.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Okay, so is this going to be a thing? Because I already spent like the last three years dealing with Jared telling me every time I was behaving according to my star sign.” 

Connor wrinkled his nose. “Ugh. Nope. Never mind. Sorry. Zoe went through a phase too— she might still be going through it, actually. She recently spent like an entire dinner telling me why my sign is the worst.”

“That’s annoying,” Evan said, unable to keep the displeased look off his face. “What’s her sign, then?”

“Leo.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me at all?”

“Right.”

“Jared is an Aries.”

“Makes sense.”

“Sorry, I’m like having an out of body experience right now.” Evan chuckled lightly. “This is so gay.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “You were literally straddling me thirty minutes ago but no, _this_ is gay.”

“I want you to picture two straight dudes having a serious conversation about their zodiac signs.”

Connor squinted at him. “Fine,” he grumbled, conceding Evan’s point. “But straight dudes also don’t straddle each other so—”

“Um, no,” Evan interrupted. “Literally any male sport ever. Wrestling? Gay as hell.”

Connor’s eyes lit up. “Have you ever seen Turkish Oil Wrestling?” 

“Um, no?”

He immediately pulled out his phone and found a video, flipping it around to show him. Evan choked on nothing and grabbed the phone from him. “What the actual…?”

“I know right.” Connor moved around so that they were sitting next to each other and could both watch.

“What are they…?”

“I don’t even know.”

“There is no way this was not invented when someone walked in on something they shouldn’t have.” Evan could not take his eyes away from the screen.

Connor cackled. “Culturally repressed homosexuality at its finest.” He took his phone back and Evan let out a small noise of protest as he clicked it off. “No, you are not going to continue using my phone to drool over sexy Turkish men.”

Evan pouted. “I was not _drooling._ ”

“Mmm, no, I’m pretty sure I saw some drool.” Connor leaned closer and Evan sort of forgot what they were talking about.

And just like that they were back where they started, falling back onto the blanket as their lips connected.

“Yeah,” Evan breathed, looking up at Connor. “I think kissing you is my new favorite thing.”

“We’re really good at it,” he agreed, claiming his mouth again.

Then Evan’s phone started ringing and they both groaned, Connor’s forehead landing against Evan’s chest. “Don’t you dare answer that,” he warned.

“I’m not.” Evan took his phone out and didn’t even look at who was calling before clicking decline and pulling Connor’s face back to his own.

They only made it about three seconds before it was ringing again.

Connor growled and sat up, and only then did Evan realize that Connor had somehow ended up between his legs. He raised onto his elbows when Connor answered the call. 

“What?” he snapped into the phone, and Evan could only pray it wasn’t his mother calling. That fear was assuaged a second later though when Connor rolled his eyes and said, “Oh, fuck you, Kleinman.”

Evan huffed and fell back onto the blanket, spreading his arms out to either side. He jumped when he felt a finger creep beneath his shirt and he lifted his head to see Connor smirking at him, gently running his fingers along the skin between the hem of Evan’s shirt and his pants. Evan gulped, fully aware that Jared was still on the other end of that call.

“Is it urgent?” Connor asked, and Evan was confused for a second before he realized he was talking to Jared. His hand pushed up Evan’s shirt as he spoke, running along his ribs and making him shiver. “We’re a little busy right now, Kleinman.” His hand left Evan’s torso and went to his leg instead, stroking at his thigh.

“Oh my god, hang up on him,” Evan complained— a bit too loudly because a second later Connor winced as Jared yelled into his ear. He pulled the phone away but Jared’s voice was still clear.

_“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TOO FUCKING WHILE ON THE PHONE WITH ME?!”_

Connor rolled his eyes and hit the speaker button. “Of course not, Kleinman. Your voice is like the biggest turn off of the century.”

 _“Oh fuck you, Murphy,”_ Jared bit back.

Evan just sighed and let his head fall back again. Connor’s hands had completely left him and he was right: Jared’s voice _was_ a massive buzzkill. Which was super annoying. Because everything else about Evan aside, he was still a teenage boy with raging hormones. And he finally had someone who would potentially be willing to get him off, and that was about the only thing Evan could think of right now. So Jared better have a _really good reason_ for interrupting.

 _“Wait, but are you two, like, fucking in general?”_ Jared went on.

Connor slapped a hand over his face while Evan made a loud annoyed noise. “Jared, you better be fucking on fire or something,” Evan snapped, earning wide-eyes from his boyfriend _(boyfriend!)_.

There was a bit of stunned silence followed by Jared’s grating cackle. _“Holy shit, Evan! What the fuck? Are you—”_ He cut himself off with more laughter. _“Is that your sexually frustrated tone of voice? Holy shit! What the fuck?”_

If Connor could strangle someone through the phone, he would have right then. “Don’t be an asshole just because you couldn’t get someone to get you off if your life depended on it.”

_“I’ll have you know—”_

“I really don’t want to know,” Connor interrupted him and Evan nodded thankfully. He did not need more stories about the poor jewish girls Jared potentially harassed at summer camp. “Just get to your fucking point or fuck off.”

_“Whatever, asshole. I only called because there’s a party tonight— upperclassmen only. Figured since Evan was finally branching out and getting that stoner dick he might want to try getting drunk before it’s too late and he’s the only high schooler in existence who never went to a house party.”_

Evan immediately scrunched his face up in displeasure. The idea of going to a party just sounded wholly unappealing. Loud? Surrounded by people? An unspoken set of rules and expectations that he’s just supposed to naturally understand and follow? It was his worst nightmare.

But did that make him lame? Was he really the only high schooler who’s never been to a house party? Has Connor been to one? Will he think Evan’s lame if he says he doesn’t want to go? What if he breaks up with him because Evan’s too anxious to go to a house party and get drunk with a bunch of strangers?

“That sounds like actual hell,” Connor said dully, and Evan let out a breath of relief. Connor’s hand ran through the blond’s hair, and Evan knew he had read his expression.

_“Well, I wasn’t actually asking you, Murphy.”_

Evan rolled his eyes. “That does— actually sound kind of awful, Jared. I don’t even— whose party is it, anyway?”

_“Matt Holtzer.”_

“Oh, Jesus—” Connor threw his head back in exasperation and Evan tried not to laugh.

“Y-yeah, uh, no, thanks, Jared. You— you have fun, though. Thanks for inviting me.”

_“Ugh, fine. Can’t say I’m surprised. Call me if you change your mind. You can even bring your boy toy along if he promises not to bite anyone.”_

Connor apparently did not feel the need to dignify that with a retort. Evan sighed. “Don’t be mean, Jared.”

_“Yeah, whatever. Bye, Evan. Go get that dick. I’m proud of you.”_

“Oh my god—” Evan hid his face in his hands while Jared cackled. Connor cut him off by hanging up and tossing the phone into the grass.

Evan peeked through his fingers as he felt Connor shift. He was pulling out his own phone and typing quickly. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Texting my sister,” Connor answered. “The likelihood that she _isn’t_ going to that party is slim to none and her friends kind of suck.”

“So you’re…?”

“Making sure she has a ride, and knows to call me if she needs me to pick her up.” His hair fell in his face as he continued texting back and forth with Zoe. “I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve had to pull her drunk ass out of a house party. Not that she ever actually calls me. Usually some asshole is sending me a picture of her dancing half-naked on a counter and I spend the next hour trying to figure out what fucking party she’s at.”

“That’s…” _that was a lot of things_ “wow.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “She’s the good kid. The last thing my parents need is for her to end up pregnant. Or dead on the side of the road.” He shoved his phone back into his pocket, apparently satisfied with whatever agreement he and Zoe had come to.

Evan reached up to grab Connor’s hand and lace their fingers together. “You’re good too.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

Evan pouted. “You are,” he insisted. “And I’m sure your parents also don’t want you to end up pregnant.”

Connor snorted, batting at Evan’s stomach.

“Or dead on the side of the road,” he added, a bit more seriously. He tugged on Connor’s hoodie string, making him bend down. “I know I don’t,” he whispered and then kissed him.

Evan’s phone started ringing again.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Connor growled, reaching over to grab Evan’s phone. He stopped in the middle of angrily swiping to answer though when he looked at the name on the screen. “Oh,” he let out, turning it around for Evan to see. “It’s your mom.”

Evan winced and took his phone, sitting up and prompting Connor to move to his side instead of staying between his legs. He took a few calming breaths before answering.

“Um, h-hello?”

“Evan?” She sounded worried. “Where are you?”

“I— uh, I told you I went to Connor’s last night?” He’s not sure why that came out as a question. He did. He did tell her that and she had responded.

“Oh, yeah, right.” It was clear she didn’t remember. “You’re still there?”

“We— we’re out now.” Evan tugged at a loose thread in his jeans. “Aren’t you at work?” It was nearly three o’clock already.

“I texted you before I left. A few times now. Why didn’t you answer?”

“I haven’t looked at my phone,” he said honestly. “I’ve been—” _Why the fuck did you start that sentence, dumbass? What were you gonna say? Making out with your boyfriend?_ “Uh… busy.”

Connor snorted beside him and Evan hit his arm.

“Oh, well are you going to be home tonight?”

“Are you?” Evan didn’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it did. He was thankful that his voice really wasn’t all that capable or getting _too_ harsh though, so normally his mom didn’t notice when he was being bitchy. 

“I’ll probably be home around midnight,” she answered. “But I have Sunday off.”

 _For now._ “Oh.”

“So you will be home tonight?” she pressed.

 _What does it matter to you?!_ Evan wanted to shout, but of course he didn’t. “Uh, maybe. I don’t know. We haven’t decided what we’re doing yet.”

“‘We’?”

 _Since when does she have such long breaks?_ “Connor and me,” he answered.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately,” she started, and Evan’s eyes narrowed defensively, wondering where she was going with this. “Maybe you should take a break…”

 _She thinks he’ll get tired of you just like she does._ Evan shook his head, trying to keep from getting mad at his mom or freaking out about scaring away the boyfriend he literally only just got a few hours ago. “It’s fine, Mom. I’m not irritating him,” he grit out, and Connor’s hand instantly landed on his, gripping it tightly in reassurance.

Heidi let out a tired sigh. “I didn’t say you were, honey.”

“Right,” he said tightly, needing this conversation to end.

“Right,” she repeated. “Can you just be home when I get there?”

“Connor will be with me.” Evan didn’t even know if that was true. He probably shouldn’t speak for him, or just assume he’d want to spend another night with him. He mostly said it because he wanted to defy his mother. Maybe Connor was rubbing off on him.

“Fine,” she said, and it sounded like she was annoyed, which Evan decided meant he won.

“Fine,” he repeated, not noticing that he was acting exactly like her.

“I have to go now.”

 _Of course you do._ “Yeah.”

She hung up without saying goodbye and Evan did his best not to be offended or hurt by it.

“Well that was the tensest conversation I’ve ever heard,” Connor commented as Evan set his phone down. “Are you okay?”

Evan shook his head. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wish she’d stop pretending to care about me.”

Connor opened and closed his mouth like he wanted to say something to that, but he’d decided against it. “I’m sorry, that sucks,” he said instead. “I take it we’re staying at your house tonight?”

Evan looked up to him. “If— if you don’t mind? I mean, you don’t _have_ to. I understand if you’d rather go home to your own bed, or— or whatever.”

“Evan,” he said seriously, taking his hand and making him look at him. “I’m pretty sure I’ve already bared my soul here. You’re not annoying me. I want to be around you… I think my freak out this morning sort of proved that?” He gave a sort of sheepish smile. “And just as a rule of thumb: I literally never want to be home. That place is suffocating.”

Evan huffed. “Yeah, I, uh, I sort of noticed. It’s kind of… um, too perfect? If that makes sense? Like everything is so perfect that it makes you feel gross and wrong by comparison?”

“Yeah, exactly. I think my mom might actually be neurotic.”

“Oh, definitely,” Evan laughed. “Has she ever sat down in her entire life?”

“I honestly can’t remember the last time I saw her relax.”

“Relatable.”

Connor rolled his eyes, chuckling slightly. “Oh my god.” He sighed and started collecting the debris around them. “Alright, after calls from Jared fucking Kleinman and your mother, I think the bubble has officially been burst.” He stood up and held his hand out for Evan. “I think it’s time we rejoin the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally.
> 
> Jump aboard the "Connor had a crush on Evan" train with me bc it's the only thing I think about whenever I remember canon.


	7. Believe me when I say you matter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you know your eyes change colors?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saturday (Part 2)
> 
> **!! READ !! THE !! TAGS !!**

It was weird.

Because now everything that they did Evan’s brain felt the need to tag _with your boyfriend_ onto the end of, like, just as a friendly reminder designed specifically to make him nervous and sweaty and anxious and… well, Evan.

As soon as he got back in the car _(with his boyfriend)_ Evan could feel the calm confidence the orchard had given him slip away with every mile that was put between them and Autumn Smiles. By the time they passed A la Mode, he was a fidgeting mess.

“Okay,” Connor let out suddenly, making Evan jump, but he powered through it. “Are you gonna tell me why you’re white-knuckling the seat or?”

“Um— I— Uh—” Evan winced and internally punched himself in the face, just barely refraining from doing it in real life by digging his nails into his palms instead.

“Is this…” Connor’s jaw clenched. “Are you changing your mind? About the whole boyfriend thing? Because if you are—”

“W-What! No! Connor—”

He spoke over Evan’s stuttered denial. “Cos you can back out right now. We can just pretend nothing happened and go back—”

“I don’t want that!” Evan shouted— actually properly shouted. Connor’s eyes widened in shock, mouth snapping shut. Evan huffed out a breath, attempting to quell the mix of fear and anger currently going haywire in his bloodstream. “I don’t— I _don’t_ want to act like nothing happened,” he bit out through his teeth. “Why would you…? No. Don’t say things like that.” His hands went up to his hair, yanking at the roots.

_He wants to pretend nothing happened. That’s why he said it. He didn’t mean anything that he said at the orchard. No one could ever actually feel that way about you. This is all just a big joke—_

“Sorry,” Connor said, and Evan managed to look up at him, needing the reassurance that he was genuine. “I didn’t mean— I don’t want that either, obviously. You’re like, the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I mean, fuck, I’ve been in love with you since I was eleven, like, I get it if that’s too much for you—”

“You what?”

Connor’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“You— you said you love me.”

Connor still looked confused. “Yeah? I said that earlier.”

“No, you didn’t.” He definitely didn’t. Evan would remember something like that.

Connor’s eyes scanned the road, apparently replaying the last few hours in his head. “Oh shit,” he said eventually, and then winced. “You cut me off.”

“I— what?”

“You cut me off,” he repeated. “In the fucking— in the goddamn tree, Evan. I was gonna say ‘I need you to know that I love you.’”

Evan tried to replay the moments leading up to the first kiss, but he couldn’t exactly remember what Connor was saying. Like, he knew what he’d _said_ but not the exact phrasing. And at the end he’d been ramping himself up to kiss him so that was all really just one big blur of _holy shit._ “I— I’m sorry.”

Connor kind of looked like he wanted to drive off the road, and he might’ve done if Evan wasn’t in the car. “It’s— uh, fine.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I don’t expect you to feel the same way, obviously. And if you want to—”

“If you say ‘pretend it didn’t happen’ I swear to _God,_ ” Evan snapped. Connor’s lips pressed together and Evan went on. “No one— no one has ever said that to me.”

“Well, technically, I still haven’t, so—”

“Holy hell, Connor, _shut up!_ ” Evan groaned and threw his hands out in exasperation. “I’m trying to— I’m trying to say I love you too!”

The car jerked like Connor was about to slam on the brakes but thought better of it last second, and instead they just slowed down to well below the speed limit while Connor just sat there, mouth hung open slightly.

“Um…” Evan started hesitantly after about twenty seconds of stunned silence. “Connor?” There was no reply. “If— if you didn’t mean—”

“Shut up,” Connor finally spoke, and Evan let out a tiny breath of relief. “Of course I meant it.”

“Oh. That’s— Yeah. That’s good.”

“Did you?”

“What?” Evan’s head snapped around. “Did I mean it? Yeah. Of course. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t— Actually, I’m not gonna finish that sentence cos that’s not true. That’s very much something I would do. But I’m not! I mean, I don’t think I am? I’ve never actually— Well, I’ve never felt this way about _anybody_ before. But I’m pretty sure, y’know. Cos it’s like… everything just makes sense when you’re around. Like, most of the time I just can’t sit still and the voices in my head are always screaming at me, but you just… you quiet all that. And I feel… calm… Ugh, I’m sorry. You gave me that whole big speech and it was so beautiful and I’m such a mess and I’m not good at words— speaking. And I just— I just think you’re so amazing and beautiful and talented and funny and smart and I don’t know— all those— all those other adjectives. You’re just…” 

He huffed out a frustrated breath and tried again. Connor was kind enough to let him. “Okay, so you know how I told you I jumped out of that tree? Well, there was this solid ten minutes after I fell where I just laid there on the ground waiting for someone to get me. _Any second now,_ I kept saying to myself. _Any second now, here they come._ But— but no one ever came. I was all alone, forgotten, in the middle of nowhere. And I just kept thinking of that saying, y’know, ‘If a tree falls in a forest and no one’s around to hear it, does it make a sound?’ Except I was the tree— er, I mean, the one falling… and no one was around to hear me. And that’s not just… that’s not just then. That’s— that’s my whole life. No one ever hears me. Nothing I say ever matters to anyone. I didn’t matter. But then… well, _you_ happened. And I felt _real_ for the first time maybe ever. And you did that. You make me feel like maybe tomorrow is worth seeing. Like maybe everything doesn’t have to be so _bad_ all the time. Because with you— with you things are good. _I’m good._ And I think love is just… y’know, caring about someone and wanting to be around them and _feeling right_ when you’re with them. So, yeah, I— I love you.”

They weren’t even going ten miles an hour now, which was good because Connor’s eyes were not on the road. “I love you,” he said.

Evan huffed out a tiny laugh. “Yeah— yeah, you said.”

“I’m sorry you ever felt like you didn’t matter. You do. You matter to me.”

Evan reached out and grabbed Connor’s hand. Fuck love— love was just a feeling that came and went, and people said it all the time when they didn’t mean it. What people should say is _you matter_ — that means so much more: saying that someone’s mere existence is important. “You matter to me too,” he whispered.

Connor’s hand squeezed his and he finally looked back to the road, bringing the car back up to speed. “Glad we got that sorted out,” he quipped.

Evan bit his lip. “Me too.”

“I am going to need you to tell me why you were squirming around in your seat so much though.”

“Right.” Evan squirmed some more, but he kept a hold of Connor’s hand. “I’m just— worried, I guess. About ‘rejoining the world’— like you said. It’s just, uh, I’ve never had a boyfriend before?”

“Me neither,” Connor reminded him gently, and Evan appreciated it. “This is all new for both of us.”

“Right. But also… I’ve only known I was gay for like less than a week? I haven’t even told my mom yet. So I like _really_ don’t know what I’m doing, y’know?”

“No?” Connor answered honestly.

Evan huffed. “Like I just… I _don’t know._ I haven’t even… I just don’t know anything about any of this. At all. I feel sort of helpless.”

“Okay…” Connor chewed on his lip. “Well, you’re not helpless, first off. And you’ve got me to help you, right?”

“Right,” Evan repeated more on autopilot than anything..

“Because we’re way too fucked up in the head to start miscommunicating, Ev,” he said seriously. “Deadass you _have_ to tell me if something is bothering you. Because you’re a shitty liar and I will notice and I will convince myself it’s because you hate me.”

And Evan couldn’t exactly argue with any of those fantastic points, even if the idea of being 100% honest with another human being scared the hell out of him. Especially since the majority of the things he _didn’t know about_ that his brain was currently supplying him with examples of were directly related to sex. And Evan just could _not_ imagine asking any of those questions out loud. Nope. Google was a thing for a _reason._

But he’s getting ahead of himself, _right?_

“What are you thinking about right now?” Connor asked abruptly.

Evan sighed. “What Jared said.”

Connor wrinkled his nose. “Which part?”

“Um… the part about…” He turned bright red.

Connor snorted. “Oh my god, the part about getting dick?” he asked and Evan’s face flushed impossibly further. “Gosh, Ev, you move quick.”

Did he? Evan didn’t know. “I’m not— it’s not like— I was just, y’know, thinking— uh—”

“That you’re a horny teenage boy?” Connor was grinning, entirely too amused.

“He says as if he isn’t,” Evan rolled his eyes. “Need I remind you, you were _on top of me_ not an hour ago? You weren’t exactly being _subtle._ ”

“Oh, I was turned on as hell.” He just _said it._ Just like that. No beating around the bush, no blushing, no denial. “You’re fucking sexy, Ev.”

Evan hid his face in his hands. “Ohmygod.”

“What? You are!” Connor exclaimed, squeezing Evan’s knee now that he no longer had his hand.

“That— that’s just— just blatantly _untrue._ ”

Connor’s brow furrowed as his lips turned down. “I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true,” he said firmly, and Evan was left speechless at the conviction. “I wasn’t just being _dramatic_ earlier. You’re honestly the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, Ev. Inside and out.”

 _You can’t mean that,_ Evan wanted to argue, because that’s what his brain was insisting, but Connor just sounded _so sure._ And this is what Evan meant, when he said Connor quieted the noise. The voice was still there, but he wasn’t forced to listen to it— not when he could listen to Connor instead. His head was still screaming _YOU'RE A HIDEOUS MESS!_ but then he looked at Connor, who had just as many issues as him, but was still _so beautiful._ And Connor looked back at Evan like he was something worth looking at— like he wanted to see every part of him.

Beauty was in the eye of the beholder, but Evan was pretty sure sex-appeal was objective. And he was positive he had all the sex-appeal of a dead sewer rat.

“I can hear you bullying yourself, Ev,” Connor said, and Evan startled slightly, wondering if he had accidentally said that out loud. “But I can’t exactly tell you to cut it out without being a massive hypocrite, cos after you told me I was pretty the other day I stared at myself in the mirror for like an hour trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with your eyesight.”

Evan’s face scrunched up. _How could Connor not know how beautiful he is?_ “That’s offensive.”

“Mm, now you know how I feel when you tell me how ugly you are.” _Touché._

He argued anyway, “I don’t think I’m _ugly._ I just think I’m not worth looking at.” This was true most of the time. But if he accidentally looked in a mirror or at a picture of himself he would start to focus on every single hideous thing about himself until he was disgusted.

“Well, you _are_ worth looking at _._ And you’ve fueled literally every romantic and sexual fantasy I’ve ever had so.”

Evan’s eyes widened. “ _Ohmygod—donttellmethat!_ I can’t live up to that!”

He just rolled his eyes. “You’ve already surpassed them, first off. But secondly, I don’t have any expectations here, Ev. I love you for you, not some weird version of you that I’ve concocted.”

Evan wanted to deny the possibility of that— insist that Connor was deluded or confused or didn’t know him well enough yet. But Connor had already seen all of his worst parts. All of the things he never showed anybody. The suicide attempts, the self-harm, the panic attacks, the abandonment issues, the body dysmorphia, the eating disorder: it was all already out there. Connor knew about all of that stuff, but he was still here. He hadn’t run screaming in the other direction. He just… loved him anyway. He still saw all the good parts too.

“Okay,” he whispered.

“I know you don’t believe me,” Connor said, and Evan opened his mouth to argue, but Connor went on. “I think I’ve already said all the things I can as evidence, but I know words only count for so much, y’know? I mean, you just told me you love me too and my asshole brain is convinced you’re lying because you’re scared of me. Even though my rational brain knows that’s fucking stupid. I still gotta listen to the shitty half. And I know you do too.”

Evan swallowed and nodded. It was incredible and terrifying, having someone who actually understood him. And they’d reached this understanding so fast— only a week. Their spirits just… connected. Like they were always meant to know each other. 

A part of Evan wished that wasn’t the case— that it had taken months to get to this place that they are now. Because then at least it would make a little more sense. This was all too good to be true. His asshole brain was having a field day reminding Evan that they hadn’t spent enough time together yet— that Connor was going to get sick of him just like everyone else did.

“So now the only thing I can do is just, _be here_ for you, right?”

_Be here. Here for me._

“Just please don’t leave me,” he whispered softly. He couldn’t handle another person leaving him. He just couldn’t.

“I won’t leave you,” Connor promised. He took Evan’s hand again and laced their fingers together even though the cast was in the way.

Evan allowed the words to settle in his chest, and for a moment he could believe them. For a moment he lived in a world where things worked out for him.

But he and Connor both knew the only thing that would really make him believe it was time.

“Okay,” he said anyway, because he at the very least believed Connor would try.

They passed the sign that informed them they were back within county lines and Connor sped up as the roads straightened out. Soon enough they were pulling back into the Murphys' driveway.

Connor reached behind him and grabbed the bag. He took the blanket out and tucked it under the seat before opening the door, bringing the bag and the rest of its contents with him. Evan thought about asking why Connor wanted to keep a blanket in his car, but decided it against it as he followed him up to the house.

Zoe was nowhere to be seen and Connor’s parents were still absent as well, so Connor actually took his time making his way through the house: putting the tupperware in the sink and the bag back where he found it before leading Evan up the stairs to his room.

“I just need to get some stuff and then we can head to your house,” he explained, and Evan was silently relieved that Connor hadn’t forgotten and he didn’t have to awkwardly remind him.

He sat on the edge of the bed while Connor moved around the room, grabbing things from his dresser before going into the bathroom to presumably get his toothbrush and whatever else he’d need to spend another night at Evan’s.

Evan’s eyes fell to a sketchbook sitting open on Connor’s desk and stood up to get a better look. The page was filled with random drawings— weird characters and alien-like flowers. He bit his lip, fingers twitching at his sides to turn the page, but he knew he shouldn’t. Sketchbooks were basically diaries, even Evan knew that.

“You can go through it,” Connor said distantly, and Evan jumped as he turned to see his boyfriend rifling through his bedside drawer in pursuit of something. He glanced over his shoulder. “I already told you I draw you, and that’s probably the most embarrassing thing in there. Or it’s as embarrassing as all the emo shit anyway.”

Evan huffed out a small laugh and picked up the book. “You’re really good.”

“Y’know that’s actually the one thing I’m fully willing to admit I’m good at,” Connor said with a chuckle, dropping his (now packed) bag at his feet and sitting on the bed. “Just cos I’ve seen other people try to draw, and most of them are shit.”

“I haven’t bothered trying since I was in elementary school,” Evan admitted. “I can draw plant diagrams well-enough but that is the extent of my artistic capabilities.” He looked down and finally flipped the page over, and immediately all the air was pushed out of his lungs. “Connor, oh my god.” 

Evan sat down at Connor’s side because he knew he would fall over if he continued trying to stand. In front of him was a picture-perfect portrait of him. Except… _it was beautiful._ “I— I do not look like this,” he stammered.

“Um, offensive,” he laughed, nudging his shoulder.

“N-no, I mean— this is— _Connor._ ” Evan wasn’t capable of coherent speech anymore. Instead he leaned up and kissed him, attempting to pour all his thoughts and feelings into it.

“Damn,” Connor breathed when they finally pulled apart. “If that’s gonna be your reaction every time, you’re welcome to go through all my sketchbooks. I’d get like at least a thousand kisses.”

“A thousand?” Evan repeated skeptically.

Connor shrugged. “If you count every time I’ve drawn you in the last six years? Probably. But anything before like age fourteen isn’t worth getting excited over.”

“That’s…” Evan shook his head, looking back to the drawing. He wanted to see more, but he was a little bit worried he’d end up back in Connor’s lap if he did. He was already feeling weak. It was just… clear as day, right in his hands. Proof that Connor saw him as something beautiful, something worth putting time and energy and work into, someone who _mattered._ It made Evan feel safe— safer than he had in a long time.

“Gonna need you to finish that sentence,” Connor said and Evan glanced back up to see Connor’s shoulders curling up towards his ears. Evan could practically hear his boyfriend’s head attempting to fill in the blank: _weird, creepy, stalkerish…_

“Incredible,” Evan said firmly, reaching up to brush a thumb across his cheekbone and waiting until Connor relaxed before going on. “Sorry. I’m just surprised. I mean, I know you told me all that stuff but I guess this is just, uh, proof? Not that I didn’t believe you. It just— it didn’t feel real? But this is… this is real.” He looked back to the drawing. “You actually see me.”

“Of course I see you, Ev. You’re beautiful.”

Evan sucked in a breath, attempting to ground himself. But nothing about this was anything like what he was used to and it was starting to get overwhelming. He leaned into Connor’s side and found himself pressing his head into his shoulder. 

His hand went up and ran through Evan’s hair. “You okay?” he asked softly.

Evan nodded. “Yeah, sorry, it’s just— a lot.”

Connor’s hand stilled. “What do you mean?”

“Not in a bad way,” Evan assured him quickly, tilting his head up. “It’s just a lot to process and my brain isn’t good at that. I mean, a week ago I was straight and friendless. Now I’m gay and in a relationship. And you like… love me. And I love you. That’s crazy.”

Connor huffed out a laugh. “You’re so cute,” he mumbled, and leaned down to kiss him.

Evan smiled against his lips. “Thanks.”

Connor ruffled his hair. “Alright, let’s go,” he said, standing up and picking his bag up off the floor. 

Evan pouted slightly because he was kind of hoping that was going to turn into another make out session. He held the sketchbook to his chest and looked up at Connor with wide eyes. “Can I bring this?”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he agreed, and Evan smiled brightly, bouncing off of the bed. “But you can’t look through it while I’m driving. I’ll be too distracted.” 

Evan sighed. “Fine.”

Connor picked up Evan’s bag as well on the way out of the room. Evan followed him back downstairs and out the door, getting in the passenger side while Connor put their bags in the backseat before joining him up front and pulling out of the driveway. 

As they drove, Evan thought that he liked the routine of it. He liked how comfortable he felt in Connor’s car, sitting next to him as they drove through the familiar streets of Penfield. Other than his mom’s, the only other car he’d ever been in was Jared’s. And those had always been horrifically awkward experiences: as Evan twitched and stuttered and tried not to breathe too loud, while Jared picked at him and made crude jokes and drove like a maniac for the express purpose of scaring Evan.

Evan looked over to see Connor’s profile, highlighted by the afternoon sun. He had a soft smile on his face, and Evan wished he could take a picture. He looked so at peace. This was a Connor that nobody else got to see.

Connor glanced at him sideways. “You’re staring at me.”

Evan smirked, not nearly as flustered as the last time Connor pointed that out (and he’d accidentally blurted out that he was pretty). “Can’t help it,” he said now. “You’re beautiful.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Nope.” Evan leaned forward and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“Ev, I’m driving!” he protested.

Evan fell back into his seat, laughing. “Guess you better hurry up then.” He reached up and ran a hand through Connor’s hair, resting his fingers at the base of his neck and absently playing with the hair there.

Connor shifted his weight and pressed back into Evan’s hand. “You remember how you made that joke about being touch starved?” he asked.

“That wasn’t a joke,” Evan replied mildly. “I really am.” That’s why he felt like he was on fire every time Connor touched him— no matter how chaste it was.

“Well, me too,” Connor huffed as they pulled into Evan’s driveway. Then he turned abruptly in his seat, barely pausing to put the car into park before he was pressing his lips against Evan’s, licking into his mouth and kissing him breathless.

Evan made a small surprised noise that evolved into a pleased one as he brought his other hand up to settle around Connor’s neck while Connor’s hands went to his hips and thighs.

Evan pulled away when Connor’s fingers started to drift under his shirt. “As great as it is to check ‘make out in a car’ off the teenage bucket list— the house we’re parked in front of is in fact empty.” He smirked as Connor blushed, glancing up to the house in question. “Also, my neighbor just so happens to be our second grade teacher, and I’m pretty sure her seeing this is the last thing any of us wants.”

Connor shrugged. “Eh, the windows are tinted.” Then he promptly let go of Evan in order to open the door. He got their bags from the back while Evan double checked his appearance before stepping out (all his neighbors were nosey and in possession of his mother’s phone number, after all).

“D’you wanna watch a movie?” Evan asked as soon as they were inside.

“Sure, let me just take these bags upstairs.”

Evan nodded, going into the living room while Connor took the stairs two at a time (something Evan would never do because he would both look like an idiot and no doubt fall directly onto his face). He pulled up the Netflix menu and didn’t even bother pretending he was going to select anything before going into the kitchen to make popcorn.

He was putting it in the microwave when he heard Connor come back downstairs and pick the remote up off the coffee table. “Any preferences?” he called to the kitchen.

Evan was about to say no before he remembered who he was talking to. “No horror movies!” he warned. Evan was jumpy and scared enough without jump scares, thank you very much.

Connor appeared in the doorway, grinning slyly. “But then how will I trick you into hiding in my shoulder while I act like the brave protector?” he asked. “Isn’t that on your ‘teenage bucket list’?”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Absolutely not. The last thing I need is nightmare fodder.”

Connor snorted, “Yeah, okay, fair enough.” He went back into the living room just as the kernels started popping. “What about 80’s movies?” he called.

“Not _Heathers_.”

“Obviously.”

Evan smirked and leaned back against the counter. It’s not that _Heathers_ was a bad movie. It’s just that neither one of them needed to spend the next two hours contemplating suicide.

The microwave beeped and he transferred the popcorn into a bowl, carrying it out to where Connor was waiting on the sofa, thumb poised to press play. Evan glanced at the title screen. “ _When Harry Met Sally_?” he asked, trying not to laugh.

“It’s good!”

“Well I wasn’t going to argue _that._ ” Evan sat down next to him, putting the popcorn on the table.

“Whatever,” Connor rolled his eyes and pressed play. “It’s a movie that you don’t have to pay attention to.”

Evan raised a brow at that. “What?”

Connor shrugged. “I mean, you’re not gonna get anything new from it the second or seventeenth time you watch it, y’know? There’s no lighting tricks or fancy cinematography or anything like that. The whole film is just in the linear narrative.”

“Does that make it bad?”

“No. I love this movie. But like it doesn’t deserve an Oscar, y’know?”

“No,” Evan answered honestly.

Connor laughed. “That’s okay.” He slung his arm around Evan’s shoulders and pulled him closer. “You’ve seen it though, right?”

“Obviously.”

“Good.” And then Connor’s lips were on his and Evan’s brain clicked with a small _‘Oh, I get it’_ as he kissed him back, opening his mouth when Connor’s tongue ran along his bottom lip.

The angle was a bit weird though, so Evan took the liberty of crawling onto Connor’s lap, his knees landing either side of his legs.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Connor whispered against his lips, hands sliding up Evan’s thighs before gripping his hips.

Evan pulled his mouth away suddenly. “Oh, wait, that reminds me!” And just like that he was out of Connor’s lap and half-way to the stairs before the other boy could process what was going on.

“What are you doing?” Connor sputtered incredulously.

“Be right back!” Evan called, jogging up to his room and locating their bags quickly. He’d shoved the sketchbook in his when Connor told him not to look at it in the car and he was dying to see more. He let out a little “aha!” when he found it and slipped back downstairs, finding a dumbfounded Connor sitting on the sofa— brows raised in question.

His eyes landed on the sketchbook. “Did you seriously just stop kissing me so that you could look at some doodles?”

Evan grinned, completely unrepentant as he plopped back down on the couch, sitting beside Connor instead of on him. “Yep.” He reached forward and grabbed the popcorn bowl, placing it in his boyfriend’s lap. “Besides, all this popcorn would have gone to waste if we spent the whole movie making out.”

Connor rolled his eyes and ate a piece. “I’m torn between being annoyed and being pleased.”

“Go with both,” Evan shrugged, understanding that Connor should be annoyed with him. That make out session had been setting out to be a particularly good one. But sometimes his brain just _thought things_ and there was no way he would have been able to go on much longer thinking about the sketchbook _and_ the popcorn.

He flipped open the front cover while Connor ate a handful of popcorn, his attention split between Evan and the movie.

“Also I’m offended on your behalf calling these doodles,” Evan huffed, turning the page and finding a page filled with colored sketches of just eyes. They looked familiar. “Wait, are these…?” He was too afraid to finish the question because what if he was wrong and sounded like an egotistical maniac?

“Do you know your eyes change colors?” Connor asked instead of answering. “Most of the time they’re green, but in some lighting they’re more like a dark blue. Sometimes they even look kind of brown. I didn’t even know that was possible.”

Evan blinked up at him, speechless. He looked back down to the page. It looked like Connor had gone through every blue and green pencil in his collection, trying to find the right combination— sometimes adding small specks of brown to the mix.

Connor reached over and silently turned the page. There was another photorealistic drawing of Evan, but it was just from the middle of his nose to the top of his brows— eyes wide and bright, light freckles and a slight blush dusting his cheeks. Depending on how you looked at it, the eyes in the drawing changed colors.

“I…” he trailed off, unable to put everything he was feeling into words. _Seen_ was the main thing. He felt seen. And for once that didn’t make his palms sweat and his skin itch. He felt honored— to be seen by Connor. To be seen _like this_ by Connor.

 _Undeserving_ was probably the other word. But he tried to push that one down.

There was a little note, written in the corner of the page. _‘We just keep waiting to be seen / No one seems to care / Or stops to notice that we’re there / So we get lost / In the in-between.’_

Evan traced a shaking hand over the short poem. It wasn’t particularly profound, or anything a high school lit teacher would insist be submitted to some local competition. But it was _honest._ It was _real._

_Connor noticed you. When no one else did._

“I’m really gonna need you to say something,” Connor said, and Evan could hear how tense he’d gotten in the silence.

His hand jutted out immediately, landing haphazardly on Connor’s chest and curling into the fabric there. “You are so amazing, Connor,” he whispered reverently, looking up at him even though he knew he was on the verge of tears. “You… you _see_ me.”

Connor huffed out a small laugh. “You already said that earlier.”

“I have a feeling I’m gonna keep saying it.”

On screen, Harry was sitting next to Sally on the plane, talking about how men and women can’t be friends because sex will get in the way. Evan distantly wondered why the hell they were watching this movie. _Right, because Connor had been planning on making out through the entirety of it._

He turned the page and was relieved to find he wasn’t the subject of the next drawing— though it was another portrait, this time of Zoe. “If I keep telling you how good these are I’m gonna sound like a broken record,” Evan teased, shifting so that he curled into Connor’s side. “Did you show Zoe this?”

“Fuck no,” he answered automatically. 

Evan looked back down to the picture. Zoe was smiling— no, scratch that, laughing. Her eyes were lit up as a grin pulled all her features upwards. She looked lighter than Evan had ever seen her. He was used to seeing Zoe Murphy with a permanent furrow in her brow— not angry or defensive like her brother, just contemplative. Except for when she knew people were looking at her; then she had a smile plastered to her face, hiding everything that was going on inside.

But the girl Connor had drawn was neither of those things. She looked truly happy here.

“You like drawing people happy,” Evan noted absently.

“Well, since I can’t make people happy,” Connor said, voice low like he didn’t really want Evan to hear it.

“You make me happy,” Evan shot back automatically, tilting his head up to plant a kiss to the set line of his boyfriend’s jaw, hoping to unclench it.

Connor didn’t reply, but he didn’t need to. The arm he had around Evan tightened, and that was enough.

Evan continued to flip through the sketchbook while Connor’s attention remained divided between the movie, his phone, and Evan. The popcorn was finished and the movie was in its last 30 minutes before Evan finally set the sketchbook aside.

“Oh, thank Christ,” Connor sighed. “I didn’t know someone could stare at a single drawing for 20 fucking minutes.”

Evan rolled his eyes at the hyperbole. “You’d be terrible in a museum then.”

“My doodles are hardly the fucking Louvre, Ev.”

Evan frowned, brow pulling together. “Stop calling them doodles. You’re selling yourself short.”

Connor huffed, shaking his head. “You’re really something, you know that?”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Connor leaned closer. “Can I get back to kissing you now? Or are you gonna keep defending my honor to myself?”

Evan felt himself go red. “I mean, I guess, if you _want—_ ” He was cut off by Connor’s mouth, and Evan let out a little squeak as he was pushed back onto the couch and Connor was settling himself between his legs, tossing his sketchbook to the floor in the process.

“Hey! Be careful with that!” Evan protested, pulling his face away to make sure the pages hadn’t gotten bent.

Connor rolled his eyes. “Why?”

“Because,” Evan raised his brows, pursing his lips out slightly as he prepared to make an excellent point, “it’s gonna be in a museum one day.”

Connor full-on snorted at that. “Yeah, sure, Ev.” And he didn’t give him enough time to object to the sarcasm before he was sealing their lips together, making Evan forget all about sketchbooks and museums as Connor’s tongue dove in to explore his mouth.

When Connor’s hips rolled, Evan gasped, throwing his head back and inadvertently giving Connor access to his neck. Which Connor took full advantage of, diving down to suck on his pulse point as the hand he wasn’t using to hold himself up drifted down to the edge of Evan’s shirt, brushing against the bit of exposed skin there.

“Fuck, please touch me,” Evan whispered mindlessly, the comment about being touch-starved running through the back of his head.

Connor chuckled and leaned back up to reclaim Evan’s mouth, pulling his shirt up in the process, running his fingers along Evan’s ribs and earning a shiver in return.

Evan let out a little whimper when Connor bit down on his lip and ground his hips down at the same time. Evan rutted up desperately, chasing that small bit of friction.

“Tell me what you want, Ev,” Connor said, hand moving along the top of Evan’s jeans.

Evan squeezed his eyes shut and stopped breathing for a second. He didn’t know _what_ he wanted— he just wanted _Connor._ “I want _you,_ ” he managed, sucking air back into his lungs and forcing his eyes open. “Just you.”

Connor stared down at him, stilling as he scanned Evan’s face in something akin to awe and wonder. Evan squirmed beneath him even as he tried to maintain eye contact. He meant what he said. Connor needed to know that.

“I’m still waiting to wake up,” Connor admitted quietly, voice catching in the back of his throat.

Evan reached up to grab his face. “This is real. I’m here. And I love you.”

Connor blew out a long breath and pressed their foreheads together. “I love you,” he whispered. “And that’s fucking crazy, I know, but I do. I love you so much, Evan.” He buried his face in Evan’s neck.

Evan felt like he was going to cry, but he really _really_ didn’t want to. He held back his tears, running his hands along Connor’s back as he gathered the words to speak again. “If you’re crazy, I’m crazy,” he said. “But you make me feel like I’m not. You… you make me make sense.”

He leaned back up to look Evan in the eye. “You make so much fucking sense to me.”

Evan smirked. “You make sense to me too.”

“You know what doesn’t make any sense?”

“What?”

“The fact that I simultaneously feel like I’m about to cry _and_ jizz my pants.”

Evan snorted, pushing at Connor’s shoulder as they laughed. “Oh my god.”

Connor bit his lip, stifling his laughter as he rolled his hips down, making Evan moan and grip his arms. “Yeah, don’t act like you aren’t the same,” he taunted. “I can literally _feel_ how turned on you are.”

“Yeah?” Evan raised a brow in challenge, tilting his head to the side. He bucked his hips up and Connor gasped. “Me too.”

“Fuck,” Connor let out, and then he was kissing Evan again, hot and heavy and hungry and probably some other adjectives beginning with _h_ , but Evan couldn’t think of any of those right now when Connor was moving like _that_ between is legs.

It was so good, but Evan wanted more. He let his hands drift down Connor’s chest and torso, stopping when he reached the fly of his jeans. Connor paused then too, holding his breath.

“Can I?” Evan asked, toying with the button.

Connor swallowed and nodded. “Yeah.”

Evan could hear his heartbeat in his ears, but incredibly his hands weren’t shaking as he undid Connor’s jeans. He kissed him again as he palmed at his clothed erection, and Connor groaned into his mouth.

“Fuck, Evan.” He ground down into his hand.

Evan felt a surge of pride swell through him at that. And suddenly his only purpose on this Earth was to make Connor Murphy feel as good as humanly possible. He reached inside his boxers and wrapped his hand fully around Connor’s cock, grinning when Connor made some truly fucking incredible noises in return. He moved his hand up and down, running this thumb along the slit and gathering the precome to slick his path.

 _This would be easier if you could blow him,_ he thought, distantly wondering when he _could_ get Connor’s cock in his mouth. Sooner rather than later, hopefully. _Is that weird? To fantasize about giving head instead of receiving it?_

Evan twisted his wrist and was brought back the present as Connor moaned into his mouth.

“Fuck, Ev, that feels so good. You’re so good.”

His chest filed with pride again and Evan grinned, repeating the motion to similar results.

Connor’s hand was suddenly at Evan’s fly then, and Evan blanked as Connor groped him— reminding Evan of his own predicament which he had somehow managed to forget in the head rush. 

“Can I?” Connor asked, and Evan nodded frantically. Connor only barely had time to process the nod before he was unbuttoning Evan’s jeans and pulling down the zipper. Evan felt the pressure release and he squirmed to have it replaced.

“Please, please, Connor, please touch me,” he begged, punctuating it by squeezing and increasing his pace.

“Fuck,” Connor hissed, bucking into Evan’s hand as he pulled his boxers down and freed Evan’s leaking erection. He wrapped his hand around him, mimicking Evan’s movements to loud approval.

Their lips came together but neither of them could really put much effort into the kiss while their minds were somewhere other than their heads.

Their hands bumped against each other, and then Connor said, “Wait, I wanna try…” and before Evan knew what was happening, Connor was batting his hand away and their cocks were rubbing together.

“Fuck, oh my god,” Evan moaned, hips bucking upwards into Connor’s hand and against his dick.

“Good?” Connor panted.

“So, so good, fuck, don’t stop.”

In answer to that, Connor moved faster and Evan may or may not have screamed. He couldn’t be sure if that sound made it out of his brain or not.

All at once: “Con, I’m gonna—”

“Thank god.”

And then they were both coming, spilling between them as Connor worked them through it. Evan’s shirt took most of the damage, but Connor’s didn’t get away clean— especially not after he collapsed on top of Evan immediately after.

For once, Evan didn’t feel like he was going to die as he fought to catch his breath. He ran his fingers idly through Connor’s hair while Connor planted wet and lazy kisses to Evan’s neck.

“That was…” Evan started as soon as he felt like he was at least mildly capable of speech again. But it turned out two syllables was the max because his brain went blank again after that.

Connor dug his face into Evan’s shoulder. “Gonna need you to finish—”

“Incredible. Amazing. Life-changing. The best orgasm of my entire life. The hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. Possibly the _best_ thing I’ve ever experienced. The new number one reason to live—”

“Alright!” Connor interrupted, laughing as he lifted his head up. “I get it.”

“You sure? Cos I could go on—”

“Okay, sassy,” Connor huffed and then raised his left hand up. It was covered in their mixed fluids and they both wrinkled their nose at the sight. “I’m really tempted to rub this all over your face right now,” Connor deadpanned.

Evan instantly batted his hand away. “Don’t you dare.”

“I’ve heard it’s good for your skin.”

“That sounds like predatory propaganda.”

“Oh SAT words,” Connor mocked. He sat up, grimacing at the mess they made as he tucked himself and Evan back into their pants, though not bothering to button them. “Ugh, hold on.” He rolled off of Evan, landing on both his feet and one clean hand before standing up and jogging into the kitchen.

Evan heard the sink turn on as he sat up, surveying the couch for damage. A part of him was sort of waiting to freak out about the fact that he’d just had sex (of a sort, anyway) for the first time on his living room sofa with his best friend who he only met less than a week ago. But no matter which way he looked at it, the panic just wouldn’t come. Even his fucked up brain couldn’t deny that he loved Connor and that that was amazing. He just couldn’t regret it.

Connor reappeared holding a wet washcloth. “Are you freaking out?” he asked hesitantly.

Evan shook his head. “Surprisingly, no. Are you?”

“Same.” He came over to sit down beside him and hand over the cloth so Evan could wipe his own hand down. The credits were rolling on the TV in front of them, but neither one of them noticed. “Are you hungry?”

Evan was suddenly starving. He glanced at the clock to see it was past six o’clock now. “Yeah, actually. But we could just order pizza? You don’t have to cook.”

“Nah, I don’t mind. Just wanna get out of these clothes first,” he said with a pointed look to his come-covered hoodie. There was a bit on his jeans as well.

“Yeah,” Evan agreed, giving his own appearance a similar assessment.

So they went upstairs and changed into clean clothes— though they both forewent jeans in favor of sweatpants. Evan still turned away while he changed, not for modesty, but because he still didn’t want Connor seeing his scars just yet. It was weird to think that he was okay with him seeing his _dick_ but not his thighs. Connor thankfully didn’t comment, just simply added his own clothes to the pile on the floor that Evan promised to wash.

“We can—” Evan started, about to offer that they pick up on _Parks & Rec _again, but he was cut off as Connor wrapped an arm around his hips and brought him in for a kiss. Evan yelped in surprise, but quickly melted against his boyfriend.

“I love you,” Connor whispered when he pulled away, looking into Evan’s eyes.

Evan kissed him again, squeezing his arms. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For everything.” Evan moved his arms down to wrap around Connor’s waist as he buried his face in his chest. “I love you.”

They stayed like that for a few moments, just holding each other. Until finally they pulled away and went back downstairs. Connor went into the kitchen while Evan carried their clothes down the hall, opening the closet doors that hid their washer and dryer.

He wasn’t surprised to find them empty— Heidi rarely did laundry. Most of the time, the only reason she had clean clothes at all was because Evan took it upon himself to get her laundry basket. This had been the norm since he was about eight years old when he had to teach himself how to measure out detergent if he wanted clean underwear.

When Evan was in inpatient one of the counselors asked him if he thought he was neglected at home. Evan thought that was a pretty strong word and had immediately shook his head. Afterall, it wasn’t like Heidi was a drunk or an addict; she was never home because she was always working— working so that she and Evan wouldn’t have to live in her car. She was doing her best. Evan knew that. 

He’d just had to grow up fast because no one was around to take care of… well, everything else that needed taking care of. Heidi could make sure he had a roof over his head and money for food, but that was about the extent of it. Since getting back from the hospital she made an attempt to be mindful of his mental health, but she just simply doesn’t have time to really deal with it past scheduling appointments with Dr. Sherman and asking him if he’s taken his meds. And even that stuff is pretty hit or miss.

She didn’t even stop to wonder if he’d been lying about falling out of the tree.

Which Evan had been thankful for at the time. But the more he thought about it, the more it pissed him off. He’d been climbing trees since he was three years old and has never _once_ fallen. She didn’t even mention that— didn’t even question it. Her son who she _knows_ has been suicidal in the past just happens to fall thirty feet from a fucking tree?

Evan knew it was a good thing, really, that she didn’t notice. Because the last thing he needed was to end up back in inpatient care. But it was still depressing. Even if she _did_ notice, that meant she chose not to mention it— she chose to ignore the fact that her son wants to kill himself.

Which wasn’t great when Evan was trying to remember why he _shouldn’t._

He found himself curled into the corner of the couch, not completely sure whether or not he’d actually turned the washer on. He wasn’t panicking, exactly, and there were no tears. But he felt fuzzy, like he wasn’t really there anymore. Like he could just disappear and no one would even notice—

“Hey.”

Evan jumped at the new voice, head snapping around and brain short circuiting when his eyes landed on Connor Murphy. Connor Murphy, who was standing at the edge of Evan’s living room with his brow furrowed in a look of concern.

_Why is Connor Murphy here?_

“Are you okay?”

And then it hit Evan all at once— not just the last week, but the last _month._ It wasn’t the middle of summer. He didn’t just get back from having his bone reset after attempting to take his own life. His mom didn’t just leave him alone again after all that.

He wasn’t alone.

Evan choked on a sob and held his arms out, and Connor was in them in an instant, sitting down on the couch and pulling Evan onto his lap, holding him close to his chest.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” Connor soothed. “What’s wrong? What happened?” He didn’t usually ask questions. He usually knew that Evan couldn’t answer… 

And then Evan remembered the last _hour_ and he knew he was going to have to force himself to speak before Connor started getting paranoid and freaking out too. “I’m s-sorry. I— It’s not you, I—” Connor tensed slightly and Evan cursed himself for the wording. “I mean, I love you. I just forgot— I thought— I got lost and I— time was just—” He cut himself off with more tears and he used his casted arm to punch his leg, mad at himself for not being able to speak.

“Hey, whoa, stop that,” Connor grabbed his arm, holding it away from his body. “Don’t hurt yourself, please. It’s okay. You’re okay. I got you.”

Evan sobbed again and buried his face in Connor’s shirt. “I— I thought it was July again.” He felt so stupid saying that out loud.

Connor just nodded though and brought Evan's arm back to them, turning it so that Evan could see the name scrawled across the previously blank cast. Evan traced the letters with his eyes like they were his lifeline. Connor kissed the top of his head and Evan let out a shaking breath.

“God, I’m sorry. I’m s-such a mess.”

“Nah, you’re not,” Connor denied it easily. “Shit happens.”

“Not for no reason,” Evan argued.

“Shit happens for no reason all the time, Ev. That’s sort of the whole thing about life.”

Evan looked up at him finally and Connor reached over to wipe away his tears.

“You good?”

Evan nodded.

“Good, because I’m about to burn the chicken.”

“Oh my god!” Evan pushed Connor away. “Go before you burn the house down!” He attempted to clamour off of his lap, but Connor laughed and held him fast, forcing a laugh out of Evan as well.

Turns out it’s pretty hard to disassociate while laughing.

They eventually make it into the kitchen where the chicken is thankfully not burned, but smells amazing.

“What is that?” Evan asked, looking over Connor’s shoulder.

“Chicken Marsala,” he answered, holding the spoon out for Evan to taste the sauce.

Evan’s brow pulled together as he tasted it. “I don’t remember you buying marsala.”

Connor shrugged. “There was some in the fridge already.”

“That’s weird.” Evan turned towards the fridge. “I mean it’s good. I just don’t remember the last time my mom cooked so I don’t know why she would have bought cooking wine.” He found the bottle in question to make sure it was actually labeled for cooking and not drinking.

“Maybe she thought she was gonna?”

“I guess.” Now that he wasn’t reliving his last suicide attempt, he was back to being irrationally angry at his mom. He paused for a second to make sure he could hear the washer running (it was).

Connor looked him up and down and seemed to put the pieces together. “When did you say she’s coming home?” he asked mildly.

“I don’t know.” Evan folded his arms across his chest. “Eleven, twelve.”

Connor gently reached out and tugged on Evan’s arms to make them fall down to his sides, and it was only then that Evan realized how defensive the posture was. He dug his nails into his palm instead, but Connor caught that too. He grabbed Evan’s hand to get him to stop. “Will you grab plates for me?” he asked instead of pushing the subject.

Evan nodded, gratitude and relief rushing through him as he went up on his toes to kiss Connor softly in thanks before turning to grab the plates.

While Connor served, Evan went over to the table to make room. More mail had accumulated since the last time he’d cleared it— most of it medical bills and random fliers with coupons or adverts. There was also a small stack of printer paper that Evan picked up curiously. His stomach turned when he read the headings. Different variations of the words ‘essay contest’ and ‘scholarship’ stamped across every page, followed by inane arbitrary prompts like ‘Describe a time when you overcame adversity.’

 _My entire fucking life,_ Evan thought bitterly, tossing them to the side.

“Damn, what did that paper do to you?” Connor asked, coming up behind him and setting their plates down.

“Nothing. My mom’s been on my case all summer about college.” Evan sat down, picking up his fork and stabbing into the chicken. “As if the first thing I want to do after surviving high school is _go to more school._ Except not just normal school— No. I have to move across the state and live with someone I’ve never met who will probably hate me because I’m just so freaking— _weird_ and annoying and on top of all that I have to _pay_ like— hundreds of thousands of dollars just to set myself up for hourly panic attacks. Except I _can’t_ pay, so I have to go hundreds of thousands of dollars into debt with like— crazy high interest rates just so I can get a piece of paper that will qualify me for a minimum wage job. Even though I don’t even _know_ what I want to do with my life.”

Connor blinked slowly. “So don’t go.”

Evan’s head snapped up. “What?”

He shrugged. “Take a year off. Do something other than school for a while. Figure out what you want before you start making financial decisions about it.”

“Is— is that what you’re gonna do?”

“I guess. I mean, I have no fucking clue what I want to do with my life. I’m still not really capable of even conceiving of a life outside of high school.”

“I wasn’t planning on living this long,” Evan replied dully, not really thinking about it.

Connor grimaced. “Yeah.”

Evan shook his head. “This is dark.”

“Yeah.” Connor pointed at Evan’s plate with his fork. “Eat. You’ll feel better.”

Evan rolled his eyes but did as he was told. “Well,” he said around the bite. “If all else fails you could always become a michelin star chef.”

Connor snorted. “You flirting with me, Ev?”

“I mean, yes, obviously. All the time. But I’m also being honest.” He took another pointed bite of food, looking up at his boyfriend innocently.

Connor closed his eyes, shaking his head as he held back his laughter. “You’re cute,” he said. 

“I’m serious.” Evan sat back in his chair. “You could like… move to France. Or any of those other countries of which you speak the national language. Italy or Spain or Japan. Learn from the pros.” He stuck his hands out as he spoke, physically laying the plans out in front of Connor.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

They shared an amused (albeit stubborn) look before cracking, turning back to their plates, and moving on to lighter topics as they ate.

And when the kitchen was clean and the leftovers packed away, they made their way up stairs, collapsing into the bed and staring up at the ceiling as they absently played with each other’s hands.

“You’d come with me though, right?” Connor asked, breaking what had been a comfortable silence.

Evan looked over to him, brow furrowed. “What?”

“Like, if I went to France or— or Italy, or wherever. I’d want you to come with me.” Connor was pointedly keeping his eyes trained on the wood paneling above their heads, like he was afraid to see Evan’s reaction.

“You— you’d want me?” Evan repeated, small and incredulous. “Really?”

Connor finally looked at him. “Of course.”

Evan felt like he was about to burst as he saw the conviction in Connor’s eyes. The way Connor looked at him —like he was worth looking at— it made Evan feel like he was standing at the edge of a high cliff, but he didn’t have anything to be afraid of. He was safe at the top of the world. He surged forward, capturing Connor’s lips with his own.

Connor turned on his side and pulled Evan closer, hand automatically going up the back of his shirt to rest between his shoulder blades.

Evan hummed and threw one leg over Connor’s, letting them both feel how turned on they were already, and Connor groaned into his mouth.

His hand moved down to grab Evan’s hip and then around to his ass, squeezing lightly and making Evan buck forward.

He rolled Evan onto his back and leaned over him. Connor groped Evan’s growing erection and moved his mouth down so that Evan could moan. He attached his lips to Evan’s neck, sucking lightly before going further down and pushing his shirt collar side. He sucked a mark there instead while Evan’s hands moved through his hair.

Apparently satisfied with the hickey that Evan was too far gone to protest, Connor continued his downward trajectory. He pushed Evan’s shirt up so that he could kiss his sternum, smirking as Evan’s breath hitched. He moved over to lick at his nipple, and Evan rutted into the hand that was still rubbing him through his pants.

“Fuck, Connor,” he gasped.

“Mm, I like it when you say my name. Especially like that.” He left a trail of kisses down Evan’s stomach and the muscle jumped and twitched beneath him. His fingers hovered at the band of Evan’s sweatpants and he looked up to him. “Can I take these off?”

Evan instantly froze.

Connor winced, cursing himself as he watched his boyfriend struggle to take in a breath. He moved back up faster than ever, removing his hands completely.

“Hey, no, wait, it’s fine if you don’t want to, Ev. I’m not gonna be mad.”

Without Connor’s touch though, Evan felt the world start to cave in faster. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head frantically. “No, I want to, I'm just—” He cut himself off with a loud breath.

Connor's hands hovered, but he was afraid to touch him now. “You’re not ready. That’s okay, Ev, really—”

Evan groaned in frustration, balling his hands into fists. He looked up at Connor, aware that there were tears in his eyes. “Please touch me right now before gravity stops working and I stop existing altogether.”

Connor instantly pulled Evan into his arms, holding him tightly. Evan felt air rush through him properly for the first time as he was grounded back in reality. He curled into Connor’s chest and scrambled to take his hand.

“It’s not— it’s not that I’m not ready. I just don’t want you to see—” _How broken and messed up I really am._

Connor’s brow furrowed and Evan watched him fill in the blanks. He sucked in a breath when Connor’s fingers lightly grazed his thigh in question, and Evan nodded.

At that, Connor moved away and Evan panicked slightly before he realized he was just shifting to take his jacket off. He balled the black fabric up and tossed it haphazardly across the room.

He held his arms out and Evan’s breath hitched. He hadn’t really gotten a good look this morning, but now Connor had them on full display and Evan could see the myriad of scars littering his boyfriend’s arms. He reached out, trailing his fingers along the scarred flesh, finding the ones that were raised.

_They still don’t look as bad as your legs though._

Connor guided Evan’s hand to the inside of his wrist. This line was worse than all the rest: raised, pink, and bumpy, like it had been stitched back together. There was a matching one on his other arm.

“I didn’t know you’re supposed to go down,” Connor joked lightly.

Evan squeezed his eyes shut against the image. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

Connor’s breath hitched. “Me too,” he whispered, sounding awed. Evan realized that was probably the first time Connor said that and truly meant it.

He looked down to his casted arm and understood the feeling.

“I’m not going to judge you, Ev— I clearly don’t have any right to. I’m not going to be angry or disgusted or whatever else your brain is telling you right now. _I love you._ Scars and all.” He brought a hand up to cup Evan’s cheek, looking at him seriously. “But you don’t have to show me if you don’t want to. I understand.” He smirked slyly and added, “I can work around it.”

Evan huffed, shaking his head. He squeezed Connor’s hands. “I trust you.”

And then he shifted up the bed, leaning next to Connor against the wall. He hooked his thumbs beneath the waistband of his sweatpants and took a deep breath before pulling them down. 

He didn’t dare look at his legs now. He kept his eyes shut as Connor moved to take his pants off the rest of the way. He kneeled between Evan’s thighs.

Evan shivered as he felt a kiss land near his knee. He cracked his eyes open and found Connor looking at his face instead of at the bruises and scars.

Evan couldn’t help but look though. Purple and yellowing bruises splotched across the sides of his legs from all the times he’d punched himself until he went numb. Jagged red lines carved into the flesh from the razor he kept in the bathroom. The sliced through white lines from those cuts that healed years ago, the ones that Evan felt the need to replace.

“Hey, look at me,” Connor said, and Evan tore his gaze away from the damage to meet Connor’s calm blue eyes. “It’s okay.”

Tears built up in Evan’s periphery. “I’m a mess.”

“No, you’re not.” Connor leaned up to kiss him and wipe the tears from his cheeks. “You have an unhealthy coping mechanism.”

Evan managed a small huff of laughter and rolled his eyes. “Gee, really? I didn’t know.”

“Don’t get sassy when I’m trying to make you feel better.” Connor kissed him again and Evan hummed in compliance. “You’re beautiful,” he said firmly. “I wish you could see you like I see you.”

Evan’s eyes were wide and his voice was small. “Still?”

“Always. No matter what.” He ducked down to kiss Evan’s leg, making him shiver. “And I’m not going to say your scars are beautiful because that’s bullshit and we both know it. They’re evidence of all the horrible things you think about yourself, and I hate that. I hate that you think those things and I hate that you feel the need to hurt yourself.” He kissed his other leg while more tears fell above him. “But I love you. Even when you’re sad or anxious or scared. And I get wanting to let all that out. Obviously.” He came back up to kiss Evan’s lips again. “I know this is asking a lot, trust me, _I know._ But I want you to try to stop. Find something else to do instead.”

Evan didn’t know if he could promise anything. “What do you do?” he asked.

“Get high.”

Evan gave him a bored look.

Connor sighed. “Draw, paint, read, take a walk, stalk your instagram.” He smirked and laughed as Evan hit him in the arm. “What? I’m serious.”

Evan just rolled his eyes. “What made you stop?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged. “It’s been on and off the last few years since I got out of the hospital. For a long ass time I couldn’t have found anything sharp if I wanted to. Then my parents started to let up and I stole a blade from their bathroom when they weren’t home. I didn’t even need it at the time. I just wanted it. To know that I could, I guess. That was enough for a while, but eventually I caved. But it wasn’t the same. It makes me feel out of control now, instead of the other way around. That doesn’t mean I don’t still try though— if shit gets real bad. This summer was rough.”

“If my mom ever saw this she’d lose her entire mind.” Evan ran his hands along his legs sadly and Connor tracked the movement. “But she doesn’t know anything about me.”

“Sometimes it makes it easier not to cut if you know someone is going to see it.”

Evan smirked. “Is this you saying you’re gonna be taking my pants off often?”

Connor snorted. “I mean, regardless, I intend to take your pants off as often as you’ll let me.” He squeezed Evan’s hips in emphasis and captured his lips, licking into his mouth.

They broke away to breathe and Connor immediately went down to his neck. Evan glanced at the clock. “My mom’s gonna be home in like three hours.”

“Jesus, how much time do you need?” Connor shot back, biting down on Evan’s clavicle.

“I’m just saying.”

“Uh-huh.” Connor sat up and took his shirt off, tossing it in the same direction as his jacket.

Evan bit his lip, looking him up and down. He reached his hands out to run down Connor’s torso.

Connor smirked and used the elastic on his wrist to tie his hair into a bun.

“Oh, hair’s going up. Does that mean you mean business?” Evan let his fingers stop at the hem of Connor pants.

“Definitely,” he growled, coming back down and rolling his hips as he kissed him. He grabbed at Evan’s shirt, pushing it up. “Take this off.”

Evan sat forward to do as he was told, and then Connor was pushing him back down into the mattress. 

“How the fuck are you like five feet tall and still have chest hair?” Connor muttered against his mouth.

Evan rolled his eyes. “I’m Jewish,” he said blandly. He actually didn’t have that much chest hair, especially considering it was blond. But it was still more than most people would have expected. “Also I’m five-seven. Sorry we can’t all be six foot four.”

“Six-two,” Connor corrected, rolling his hips again.

“Any other measurements you wanna compare?”

Connor barked out a surprised laugh at that. “Jesus fucking Christ, Ev.” He ran his hands along Evan’s sides.

“Don’t Catholics have some rule about taking the Lord’s name in vain?”

He hummed and his thumbs hooked into Evan’s underwear. “What about me has struck you as particularly religious?”

Evan didn’t miss a beat. “Your parents.”

Connor laughed again. “Do me a favor and never mention my parents while we’re in bed ever again.”

“Do me a favor and finish undressing me already.”

“Needy,” Connor teased, but he took Evan’s underwear off. Evan shivered as he was exposed to the air and Connor shifted to get the garment all the way off and on the floor.

Evan didn’t feel the need to argue that. He pulled Connor back between his legs, bringing their lips together. Connor dipped his hips down and Evan moaned at the friction. He slipped his fingers beneath Connor’s waist band and pulled down. “You too.”

Connor chuckled low and stood up to shed the rest of his clothes.

Evan eyed him hungrily and then yanked him back down to the bed, rolling them so that he was on top this time, straddling him.

“Fuck,” Connor breathed, looking up at Evan with what can only be described as reverence. 

It was Evan’s turn to roll his hips and Connor grunted, scrambling for purchase on Evan’s waist as their cocks rubbed together. Evan went in for a quick and desperate kiss as he ground down against him.

“Fuck, Ev, you’re so hot.” Connor ran his hands lightly along Evan’s thighs before gripping his ass, guiding his movements. Evan moaned into his mouth, pressing back into his palms.

He moved his mouth down Connor’s neck, licking and sucking lightly until he got to his chest. He licked tentatively at Connor’s nipple, tongue jutting out to taste the sensitive bit of flesh.

Connor moaned and tightened his grip. Evan practically purred, sucking on the bud in response.

“Holy fuck, your mouth…”

Evan blinked up at him. “Where else do you want my mouth?”

Connor’s eyes widened. “Are you…?”

In answer to that Evan shifted backwards, maintaining eye contact as his lips grazed the head of Connor’s weeping cock. “What?” he asked innocently, and lapped at the slit, tasting him.

Connor’s hands flew to Evan’s hair as he hissed. “Fuck, oh my god.”

Evan hummed and Connor bucked up towards the noise. Evan licked a stripe from base to tip. He decided he liked the feel of Connor’s cock against his tongue, so he put the whole length in his mouth, unbothered when it hit the back of his throat.

Connor gasped. “How the fuck…?”

Evan pulled off of him. “Do you really want to know how I found out I don’t have a gag reflex? Right now?” It was not a sexy story.

Connor shook his head, probably putting the pieces together himself. “Tell me later.”

“That’s what I thought.” He sucked Connor back into his mouth, delighting in the way Connor moaned. He moved his head up and down and hummed when Connor hit the back of his throat again.

The vibration went straight up Connor’s spine. “Shit, oh my god, Evan. I’m not gonna last.”

In response, Evan doubled his efforts, wanting to taste Connor’s come, feel it fill his mouth and run down his throat.

Connor lost all sense, bucking up and fucking Evan’s mouth with reckless abandon. “Ev, I’m—” He started to try and pull Evan off of him, but Evan batted his hands away and swallowed around him. It was primarily for communication purposes, but apparently it had other effects too. Connor came suddenly with a loud groan.

Evan stayed there, taking it all and swallowing it dutifully, working Connor through his release until he pulled at his shoulder, signaling for him to come back up.

Connor instantly kissed him like he was drowning and Evan was oxygen. He licked into Evan’s mouth, tasting himself on his tongue.

“Where the fuck did you learn to give head?”

Evan shrugged. “Reading?”

Connor laughed at that and Evan grinned, falling into the sheets beside him, needing to catch his breath. They stared up at the ceiling, processing what just happened.

“You know, I was actually planning on blowing _you_ tonight,” Connor said eventually. “But I’m not sure I can follow that performance.”

Evan suddenly became aware of how hard he still was. He gripped at his cock for some relief. “I’ll take anything.”

Connor chuckled and shifted onto his side, using one hand to prop his head. He replaced Evan’s hand with his own, jacking him slowly. “There is another thing we could try…”

Evan raised his brows in waiting.

“You might not like it.”

“What is it?”

“I could eat you out.”

Evan shivered, already loving that idea. “You— you don’t have to—”

Connor was moving in an instant, settling himself between Evan’s legs. He leaned down, letting go of Evan’s dick and sucking the head into his mouth. Evan moaned and involuntarily bucked, but Connor was ready, pressing his hips back down into the mattress.

He moved down, sucking lightly on Evan’s balls on the way. Then he pushed his legs further apart, revealing Evan’s hole. He licked at his entrance and Evan whimpered. His hand dug into Connor’s hair, loosening the bun slightly so he could find purchase

“Don’t mess up my hair,” Connor warned. Then he got to work before Evan could try to sass him back.

Evan was a writhing mess within seconds, moaning loudly and only saying Connor’s name whenever he managed to speak.

Connor pushed his tongue past the tight ring of muscle and Evan full-on _screamed_ in pleasure. “Yeah you like that, baby?” Connor lapped at him while Evan nodded frantically. “You want me to fuck you with my tongue?”

“Please, please, Connor, Connor, please.” Apparently _please_ was added to his currently very limited vocabulary.

Connor complied, pushing his tongue back in deeper this time. Evan screamed again.

“Bet you could come just like this,” Connor said, licking at him. “Bet I won’t have to even touch that pretty little cock of yours.”

Evan had always thought dirty talk would be weird, but Connor's words were unravelling him. He nodded frantically, unable to do anything but agree with the person who was making him feel so good. He was already so close, anyway. Another word made it into the lexicon. “ _Yes,_ please, Connor— Connor.”

Connor’s tongue penetrated him again and Evan chased his release. He was right on the edge. He just needed… “More! Connor, Connor, please, I— more.”

He couldn’t properly communicate, but Connor seemed to get it anyway because a second later a finger pushed in past the tongue.

Evan moaned. “Yes, yes, yes…”

Connor crooked his finger a few times until—

Evan’s vision turned to white, pleasure racing up his spine and throughout his whole body as he came untouched with a cry of Connor’s name.

When he came to, Connor was cleaning him up with a wet washcloth. Which meant he had somehow missed him getting up.

“Thanks,” he whispered, and Connor hummed, tossing the soiled cloth towards the bathroom 

He climbed into the bed and laid down, pulling Evan to him.

Evan nuzzled into his chest. “We have to get dressed,” he mumbled tiredly.

“Uh-huh, in a minute.”

The only thing Evan wanted to do was pass out right then and there, but the image of his mom walking into his room while he laid naked in bed with his boyfriend forced him to move.

Connor made a displeased noise as Evan pulled away, but he ignored it, finding his pants and underwear on the floor next to his shirt. He put them on and then collected Connor’s clothes, sans the jacket because he couldn’t find it and tossed them towards his boyfriend, earning a small ‘oof’ in return.

He started towards the door and Connor finally sat up. “Where are you going?”

“To get our clothes out of the dryer.”

“You think your mom is gonna get home and immediately check the dryer for evidence that you’re having gay sex?” Connor asked incredulously, moving to put his shirt on.

Evan rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, Connor. I have anxiety.”

He huffed out a laugh at the blase way Evan said that and nodded in understanding. “Fair enough.”

Evan retreated downstairs and quickly grabbed their clothes, not bothering to fold them but still double-checking to make sure he had them all when he got back to his room.

Connor was already dressed when he returned, and Evan shoved the clothes into his closet _(heh)_ before rejoining his boyfriend on the bed.

Connor immediately pulled him in, spooning up behind him and wrapping a firm arm around his waist so that he couldn’t try to leave again. “Sleep now,” he ordered, placing a kiss to the top of Evan’s head.

Evan hummed and scooted backwards to mold himself into Connor. Somewhere in the back of his mind he recognized that this was still a pretty damning position to be found in if his mom checked on them, but he was too comfortable to protest it. Instead he pulled the covers up around them and let sleep drag him under.

When he woke up it was to the sound of Connor cursing as he sat up.

“What…?” Evan asked blearily as Connor was getting out of the bed.

“Zoe,” he answered shortly, already shoving his jeans on. He tossed his phone in Evan’s direction and Evan squinted at the bright light of the screen. 

It was an instagram video, posted half an hour ago by Matt Holtzer. A clearly already drunk Zoe took five shots in one sitting, and whoever was standing next to Matt was commenting on how easy she’s going to be.

“Shit,” Evan let out. “Has she texted you?”

“I knew she wouldn’t.” Connor finished putting on his jeans and grabbed his jacket as he started looking around for his shoes. “Are you coming?”

“Yeah.” Evan rushed to get out of the bed and grab a pair of jeans. Connor started trying to call his sister while Evan got dressed. He groaned in frustration and Evan heard the first few words of Zoe’s voicemail before Connor hung up. “Alright, let’s go.”

They were running down the stairs when the front door opened and Heidi looked up at them with wide, confused eyes. “What’s going on?” she asked, reading their frantic faces.

Connor was apparently in too much of a hurry to freak out over the fact that _this_ was how he was meeting his boyfriend’s mother. “Sorry, Ms. Hansen, we really have to go.”

“What?” Heidi asked incredulously. “It’s nearly midnight.”

Connor was twitching anxiously, looking like he was weighing the pros and cons of just storming past her. Evan put a hand on his shoulder and looked to his mother. “It’s his sister. She’s at this really horrible person’s house party and—”

“She’s drunk off her ass and at the top of nearly every guy at our school’s hit list. I have to go.” He made it down the rest of the stairs with Evan on his heels.

Heidi moved out of the way of the door. “Is she okay? Do I need to call someone? Should you be driving like this?”

“She can take care of herself, I just need to get her out of there. I swear to God I will keep Evan safe or I promise you can kill me yourself.” He grabbed Evan’s hand and pulled him out the door.

“We’ll be right back!” Evan called over his shoulder.

His mom still looked stunned, but she nodded. “Call me when you find her!”

“Thank you, Ms. Hansen!” Connor said before getting into his car. He waited until Evan was inside and had his seatbelt on before backing out— probably a lot more carefully than he would have had Evan’s mom not been standing on the porch.

“Well that was just about the worst way I can imagine meeting your mother.”

“I can imagine much worse ways,” Evan assured him. “She’s definitely more worried about your sister than anything right now.” Connor nodded and Evan watched him turn onto the main road. “Do you know where his house is?” Evan asked.

“Unfortunately. Can you call —or text, whatever— Kleinman? If he’s not already wasted he might be able to find her before we get there. Or at least confirm that she’s still surrounded by witnesses.”

Evan had enough adrenaline to press the call button, but it rang out and he got Jared’s voicemail. “He’s not answering.”

Connor cursed and increased his speed. Thankfully there were no cops, and they made it to the Holtzer’s house after Evan tried Jared’s cell four more times. Connor parked a little ways down the street and turned to Evan. “Do you want to stay here? There’s a lot of people in there.”

Evan shook his head quickly. “No, I want to help.”

“Are you sure?”

“Connor, I really should not be your main concern right now.”

Connor huffed. “You’re always my main concern.” But he got out of the car and let Evan follow him.

They jogged up to the house that was blaring music and had people pouring out of it. Evan almost immediately regretted his decision when he saw the crowd they’d have to push through.

They got inside and Evan curled his hand into the back of Connor’s hoodie as people jostled them left and right. Someone spilled their drink right next to Evan’s shoe and he jumped. He only just barely managed to keep from covering his ears from the speakers that were pumping the bass so loudly that the song itself was incoherent.

And then a girl was flinging herself at Connor, speaking garbled French. “ _Bonjour! Connor! Evan! Que—Que fais-tu ici? Je—je ne sais pas ce…. uh je fais ici._ ”

Evan’s eyes widened as he recognized Alana Beck— though “recognized” was a strong word, because she looked nothing like the polite and put together Alana he was used to being intimidated by. 

“How the hell do you speak better French when drunk?” Connor asked, catching Alana before she could fall.

Alana shook her head. “ _Je ne sais pas._ I’ve— I’ve been studying _toute la journée._ ”

“You studied all day and then decided to come to come to Matt Holtzer’s party and get wasted?”

Alana shrugged. “He invited me! It would be _rude_ if I didn’t come!”

“Have you seen him?”

Her brow furrowed and she shook her head again. “Oh, that’s very rude of me…”

Someone rammed into Evan, spilling their drink on him and nearly pushing him to the ground. Connor spun around in an instant, shouting after the guy, “Hey, asshole! Watch where you’re going!”

The asshole ignored him, but that was probably for the best. Evan was starting to spiral as he looked down at the alcohol quickly seeping through his shirt. The noise and the smells and the _people_ were all too much. He was stupid to think he could do this.

“Hey,” Connor put a hand on his cheek and Evan looked up to him with wide eyes. Connor grabbed his hand and then (as an afterthought) Alana’s, hauling them to the edge of the crowd. “Stay here, okay? I’ll be right back, I swear. I just need to find Zoe.”

Evan nodded, knowing that if he insisted on going he’d only end up having a panic attack and slowing him down.

“Zoe!” Alana exclaimed. “I saw Zoe!”

Connor turned to her. “Can you take me to her?”

Alana nodded, bouncing up and down slightly, excited by the prospect of being helpful.

Connor turned back and kissed Evan softly. “Right back,” he repeated, squeezing Evan’s hand before letting Alana drag him further into the house.

Evan only made it about two minutes before someone noticed him. “Hey, it’s Hansen! Who the hell invited this loser?” they shouted. And Evan snapped his head up to see a group of guys twice his size headed toward him.

Acting on instinct, Evan spun on his heel and ran away. There were stairs behind him and he dashed up them without thinking. He was an expert at finding bathrooms to hide in, so he really wasn’t all that surprised when the first door he opened led to one.

He was surprised, however, to find Zoe Murphy sitting on the floor against the bathtub. Her eye makeup was rubbed into dark circles and she had tear stains running down her face. She seemed to only barely register his presence.

Evan could still hear those guys outside so he quickly shut and locked the door behind him. He slowly moved to sit across from Zoe, not wanting to scare or anger her. “Hey, are you… are you okay?”

Zoe glanced up at him and sniffed. “Great. You’re here,” she said, clearly meaning the opposite. Evan did his best not to take it personally. She was drunk, afterall. “Is my brother with you?” She sounded mad.

Evan nodded.

“Well fuck me, I guess!” She picked up the cup next to her knee and took a drink. “What were you doing before you got here?” she demanded. “Has he admitted that he’s in love with you yet?”

Evan was thankful that he had, because this would be a shitty way to find out about it. He didn’t answer Zoe though because she was on a roll.

“Y’know I had a crush on you too?” she added, laughing bitterly at herself. “I thought— I thought you were the only good guy at our school! Turns out good guys don’t exist! They’re either garbage or gay! Or both!”

Evan had no idea how to react to this news. _Zoe Murphy had a crush on him? When? Why?_ He held back the impulse to shudder at what he might have done had he learned this before realizing he was gay.

“I wish I was gay,” Zoe muttered, swallowing down the last of her drink and throwing it at the wall. “Or at least fucking bi. So that I had a choice other than _men._ ” She snapped her head around to Evan. “You’re not bi, are you?”

He shook his head. “N-no, sorry.” _Was he sorry?_

“If you were bi, do you think you’d pick me over Connor?”

 _Absolutely not,_ Evan didn’t say. Because that would be horribly rude. And he didn’t want Zoe to hate him. “Connor, he, um, he gets it? Yeah. So um.”

She wasn’t listening. “Are you sure you’re not bi? Like, have you checked? We can make out just to make sure.”

Evan squirmed uncomfortably. “Zoe, I— I really don’t think you want to wake up tomorrow and realize you hit on your brother’s boyfriend.”

Zoe snorted. “I won’t remember any of this.”

“Thank god,” he muttered. “I wish I wouldn’t.”

“Offensive.”

“Don’t take it personally.” It was easier to talk now that he knew this conversation had no stakes. His phone rang before Zoe could respond and he took it out quickly, sighing in relief at the sight of Connor’s name. “Connor,” he answered.

“I now have two drunk teenagers on me and neither one of them are my sister,” Connor said by way of greeting. “Kleinman can barely stand. Where are you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I found Zoe.”

“Thank fuck.”

“We’re upstairs. I can bring her down.” Evan started to stand, ignoring Zoe’s pout.

“Why the fuck was she upstairs? Is she okay?”

“She’s okay, I think. I found her hiding in the bathroom.” Evan held his hand out for Zoe and she took it reluctantly, allowing Evan to pull her up. She leaned heavily against him and he struggled to keep hold of her and the phone as he opened the door.

He managed to get them both downstairs, meeting Connor on the landing.

Jared flung himself at Evan. “Acorn! I met your boyfriend! He’s _hot!_ ”

Evan raised a brow at Connor who shook his head. “He’s been flirting with me since I found him.”

Evan chuckled, letting Jared rest his head on his shoulder. “I hope he remembers it in the morning.”

“Either way I’m gonna hold it against him.” He turned to Zoe. “Where are your friends? I thought you came with a huge group of girls?”

She shrugged. “They left me.”

“Jesus Christ, Zoe, get better friends.”

“Like you’re one to talk. You don’t have _any_ friends.”

Evan had the sudden impulse to push Zoe away from him, but he didn’t do that because he’s a good person and she’s his boyfriend’s sister. That didn’t stop him from glaring though.

Connor was unfazed, however. He pointed to Alana, Jared, and Evan. “Pretty sure I have three, actually.”

“Awe, are we friends?” Jared asked dopily, batting his eyelashes up at Connor. Alana held a similar expression, though she seemed more awestruck.

Zoe ignored them. “Evan doesn’t count if you’re fucking him!”

“Pretty sure Evan counts twice cos I’m fucking him,” Connor shot back.

Evan choked and Connor smirked at him while Zoe gagged.

Jared pouted. “Can I fuck Evan too?” 

“ _No,_ ” Evan and Connor answered together.

Connor shook his head. “Kleinman, how did you get here?”

Jared took out his keys. “I drove, my dude.”

Connor snatched the keys out of his hand, ignoring Jared’s protest as he shoved them in his pocket. “Alana?” he asked.

“I walked.”

“Congratulations, you’re officially the smartest drunk here,” Connor said blandly, and Alana beamed like she’d just been given a nobel prize. He rolled his eyes and looked at Evan. “You good?”

He nodded. “Take your sister from me though. Jared’s too heavy for me to support both of them.”

“ _Rude,_ ” Zoe and Jared chimed together, but Zoe moved off of Evan’s side and into Connor’s.

“Let’s get out of here,” Connor said.

The drunks managed to walk by themselves for the most part, though they’d occasionally stumble and need catching. They made it to Connor’s car and shoved them all in the backseat.

Connor huffed as he got behind the wheel. “Do any of you have parents that aren’t going to kill you if I take you home like this?” he asked.

None of them responded.

Evan sighed. “I need to call my mom anyway.”

Jared cackled. “Wouldn’t be the first time I passed out drunk at the Hansen’s.”

Connor raised a brow at Evan. “Seriously?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Did he hit on you?”

“Every. Single. Time.”

Connor nodded slowly. “Noted.” He put the car into gear and started driving as Evan called his mom.

Heidi answered on the first ring. “Hello?” She sounded worried.

“Hey, mom. We’re fine. Just, uh, got everyone into the backseat…”

“Everyone?” she repeated.

“Connor’s sister, Jared, and the valedictorian.”

“Hi, Heidi!” Jared called from the back.

Heidi sighed. “When I told you you should get out more this is not exactly what I meant.”

Evan winced. “No, I know.”

“I take it their parents would kill them if they went home?” she asked tiredly.

“Yeah… Sorry.”

“It’s fine, honey. I’m glad everyone is safe. See you soon. Love you.”

“Thanks, Mom.” He hung up and looked to Connor. “We’re good. She said it’s fine if they crash there.”

Alana piped up from the back: “Wow, Evan, your mom must be really cool.”

Evan squirmed. “Uh, yeah, she’s…”

“Heidi’s great!” Jared interrupted. “She, like, doesn’t even care what Evan’s doing. Ever.”

Evan tensed. Connor’s hand landed on top of his.

“Wow,” Alana repeated. “My dads are always on my case, y’know? It’s like— it’s like I’m on a leash.”

Zoe crossed her arms. “My parents hold me to impossibly high standards because I’m expected to be the good child.”

Connor tensed. Evan squeezed his hand and snapped. “Zoe, no offense, but can you please shut up?” Well, he snapped as well as he’s capable of snapping anyway.

Jared snorted. “Yeah, Zoe, what the fuck? Connor just saved your ass and you’ve been a bitch to him this entire time.”

“You have been a bit harsh…” Alana said lightly.

Zoe opened her mouth to argue, but Connor beat her to it. “Nah guys, she’s right. Our parents don’t treat us fairly and that’s my fault.”

Evan huffed. “It’s not your _fault._ ”

Connor rolled his eyes. “For lack of a better word,” he amended. “If I wasn’t so fucked up they wouldn’t be so hard on her.”

“Have you expressed this to your parents?” Alana asked diplomatically.

Jared snorted. “Have you _expressed_ to your parents that they keep you on a leash?”

Alana pressed her lips together.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Jared sat back. “Parents don’t get shit.”

“What’s wrong with _your_ parents?” Zoe asked.

“I’m the middle child of nine,” he answered blandly. “They don’t know I exist.”

“At least that explains your personality,” Connor quipped.

Jared laughed. “Oh man, fuck you.”

“No, thanks.”

They pulled up to Evan’s house and he turned around to face the backseat, looking at them seriously. “My mom doesn’t know I’m gay so don’t say anything about that or make any stupid jokes about me and Connor, okay?”

Connor turned too. “Or I will murder you.”

Evan gave him a bored look. “That wasn’t necessary.”

Connor was unrepentant. “They’re drunk off their asses. Gotta make sure this sticks. Kick in the self-preservation instincts.”

They all nodded sagely and Jared said, “Don’t tell Heidi that her son likes riding dick. Got it.”

Connor slapped him upside the head. Evan let him, ignoring Jared’s whines as he opened the car door.

The drunks had sobered up enough to get out of the car by themselves, thankfully, even managing to walk to the door on their own— though they looked entirely spaced out.

Heidi already had the couch and armchair set up with pillows and blankets, and there was a sleeping bag on the floor.

“Shotgun the couch!” Jared called.

“Absolutely not,” Heidi said immediately. “You get the floor. Or need I remind you I have your mother’s number?”

Jared pouted but did as he was told, getting onto the sleeping bag and hugging one of the pillows. “Stupid gender roles,” he muttered.

“This has nothing to do with your gender and everything to do with the fact that this is the _fifteenth time_ you have come to my house wasted, Kleinman.”

Connor snorted and leaned down to whisper in Evan’s ear. “I see where you get your sass.”

“Thank you so much for this, Ms. Hansen,” Alana said politely, though she was still swaying. “You’ve really saved my life.”

“Sure thing, sweetie.” She patted her arm. “Why don’t you go lie down?”

Alana nodded and all but collapsed into the arm chair.

Heidi turned to Zoe. “And how are you, dear? Your brother was really worried about you.”

Zoe managed a small smile. “I’m fine. Thank you, Ms. Hansen. Your son found me hiding in the bathroom.” Heidi winced in sympathy. “He’s a good egg.” Zoe yawned and followed the others into the living room, falling onto the sofa with little fanfare.

Heidi raised her brows at the two remaining teenagers. “Some interesting friends you have here, Evan,” she said, crossing her arms.

“I barely know half of them,” Evan muttered. “And Jared and Alana were not in the plan. Connor just has a savior complex.”

“I do not!” Connor protested.

“Oh, you so do.”

“It is not my fault they attached themselves to me.”

Heidi held her hand up. “Alright, boys.” She motioned over her shoulder. “You two get to bed too. You look exhausted.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they mumbled and ran quickly up the stairs.

“That was weird,” Evan said as he shut the door behind him and shucked off the liquor-soaked shirt.

“Which part?” Connor asked, toeing his boots off.

“All of it.” He took his shoes off too and started unbuttoning his jeans just as Connor did. “But I meant specifically my mom. It’s weird when she’s like… actually being a mom.”

Connor paused in the process of picking up his sweatpants. “What do you mean?”

Evan shrugged, putting on his sweats and sleep shirt and getting in the bed. “I dunno. Just… taking responsibility and telling us what to do. Or even just, seeming to care. She’s not usually like that.”

Connor’s brow furrowed, scooting in beside him. “You don’t think she cares?”

“I dunno.” He turned to face his boyfriend. “It’s not that she _doesn’t_ care. It’s more like… she doesn’t have time to? Or she’s just not around often enough to know that there’s anything _to_ care about, I guess.”

“Oh.” Connor took his hand. “That sucks.”

“Yeah.” Evan yawned; he was too tired to think about it now. He scooted closer and hummed in satisfaction when Connor wrapped an arm around his waist, tangling their legs together. 

They drifted off quickly, breathing each other’s air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We got the gang together, ya'll ❤︎
> 
> I think people were expecting them to do a complete 180 and explode on each other, but that would just be super OOC for the way that I've established their characters in this story. They had a lot of near misses, but they work well together and can handle each other ~~(because they're soulmates)~~. Also, unpopular opinion: miscommunication as a plot device is almost always just lazy writing. But my thoughts on that aside... These boys have enough issues without also adding petty bullshit into the mix. They love, know, care for, and respect each other enough to make a conscious effort to communicate their thoughts and feelings clearly so as to not trigger the other's anxiety/paranoia. Even though there are obvious unavoidable missteps, they put the work in to correct the situation before it can escalate. ~~(A fact which I will explore more in part 2 of this series.)~~ I think straight-culture has just perpetuated the idea that it's normal to be constantly at your S/O's throat. And like. No. Healthy relationships are built on mutual trust, respect, and understanding— something that is not achieved by hurting each other.
> 
> One more chapter left! ❤︎


	8. Maybe after all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Evan, I need you to understand that nothing you can tell me will ever make me want to leave you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sunday

Evan woke up feeling Connor pressed up behind him. He bit his lip and scooted backwards, getting a quiet groan from Connor and a firm hand on his hip in response. 

He turned around and kissed Connor awake, a rush running through him at the fact that this was something he could do now. Connor hummed against his lips and pulled him closer. He scrunched his face up as Evan kissed his nose.

He opened his eyes and found Evan smiling at him. “No, no, you’re entirely too cute for this early in the morning,” he complained. “I’m supposed to be grumpy. That’s like my whole thing.”

Evan grinned and kissed him again, pleased when Connor kissed him back. “Hey, guess what?”

“What?”

“I love you.”

Connor laughed, bright and beautiful and wholly unreserved. “Yeah, I love you too, Ev.”

Evan brought a hand up to Connor’s cheek, moving it through his hair as he brought their lips back together. Connor sucked in a breath and licked into Evan’s mouth. Evan let him, but pulled away when Connor started trying to push him onto his back.

He found Connor pouting at him and Evan giggled, tucking an errant curl behind his boyfriend’s ear. “My mom, your sister, and two of our classmates are currently downstairs.”

“So we’ll be quiet.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Okay, first off, I’m pretty sure I’m actually incapable of not being loud when you’re touching me, and secondly, there is absolutely no way I could get hard knowing that my mom could walk in on us at any moment.”

Connor smirked. “That sounds like a challenge.”

“It’s not.”

“Fine,” Connor sighed, rolling away. “My mouth tastes horrible right now anyway.” He got up and went to his bag, presumably in search of his toothbrush.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Evan teased, earning a glare from Connor over his shoulder.

“You’re not exactly roses right now either, babe.”

Evan’s hand instantly went to his mouth, eyes widening in horror. “Oh my god I can’t believe I went to bed without brushing.”

“Considering everything that happened last night, it would have been weird if that was on your priority list.” He went into the bathroom, leaving the door open.

Evan followed him when he heard the sink turn on. They brushed their teeth together and Evan was struck once again by how oddly domestic they were. 

That feeling was only amplified when they got into the kitchen by quietly tiptoeing around their passed-out friends, and Connor declared, “Let’s make crepes,” as he pulled milk and eggs from the fridge.

“You seriously know how to make crepes?” Evan hoisted himself up to sit on the counter.

“We get extra credit points for bringing in crepes in French class,” he shrugged, going through the cabinets in search of the other ingredients.

Evan raised his brows. “You need extra credit points for a language you’re fluent in?”

“No, but other people do and they’re willing to pay me for them.” He sent Evan a cheeky wink over his shoulder, then handed him heavy cream, a bowl, and a whisk. “Here, make whipped cream.”

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“Put cream in a bowl. Whip it.”

Evan rolled his eyes at the sass, but hopped off the counter to follow instructions while Connor started making the crepe batter. He had soft peaks by the time Connor was brushing butter onto a pan.

He went over to watch him pour the batter and tilt the pan around so that it coated it entirely. His movements were precise— practiced. After a few minutes he flipped it expertly and Evan fought back the impulse to cheer as it stuck the landing.

“I think there’s strawberries in the fridge,” he said.

“Hm?”

Connor glanced at him. “In the fridge? Strawberries? For the crepes?”

Evan shook himself. “Oh. Right. Sorry,”

Connor’s brow furrowed. “You okay?”

“Yep.” Evan popped the ‘p’ and quickly jogged over to the fridge, reminding himself that his mother would be awake any moment and did not need to find him making out with his boyfriend over burned crepes.

He sliced the strawberries dutifully while Connor’s crepe pile grew higher.

“Hey, Ev?” he asked eventually, not taking his eyes off the pan as he tilted it. “There’s chocolate in the cabinet next to chips, will you get it for me?”

“Yep.” Evan transferred the sliced berries into a bowl before going to get the chocolate.

“Great. And like… just get a sauce pan and fill it halfway with water and put it on this burner.”

Evan’s brow knit together but he followed instructions anyway.

“Now grab a bowl— not that one, uh, metal? Yeah that works. Put the chocolate in that.” Connor flipped the crepe. “And now just put it over the water— yeah, like that.”

“What am I doing?” Evan asked, looking at the weird set-up Connor had him make.

“It’s called a _bain marie_ — french for water bath. Basically you’re just melting chocolate slowly.”

Evan squinted at him. “Why couldn’t we just stick it in the microwave?”

“Cos it’ll get too hot too fast in the microwave and seize up.”

“Oh.”

Connor handed him a rubber spatula. “Stir.”

“Yes, sir.”

Connor gave him a side eye and added a crepe to the pile. He buttered and battered the pan again and Evan got lost watching him work.

“Watch the chocolate, Ev.”

Evan was unrepentant, but he turned back to the chocolate with an over dramatic sigh. “You’ve given me very boring jobs.”

“You wanna try flipping this one?”

His eyes widened. “What? No. I couldn’t—”

“It’s easy. C’mere, I’ll show you.” He pulled Evan in front of him and guided his hand to hold onto the pan. “See the lacey edge forming? That means the bottom is nearly all the way cooked.” He pointed and Evan nodded, distantly wondering who taught Connor this. He used a spatula to lift a small corner. “Now shake the pan lightly— yeah, like that. It can move freely so that means we can flip it.” He placed his hand over Evan’s. “One… two… three.” He jerked the pan forward and back. The crepe flipped through the air and landed perfectly on its other side. “See? Easy. “

“You make it easy,” Evan corrected lightly. “I’m just standing here.”

Connor chuckled and stepped away to stir the chocolate. It was nearly half-way there. He came back and took the pan to shake the crepe out onto the plate. “Alright then, you do it by yourself this time.”

“What? No, Connor, that’s—”

“C’mon, Ev, it’ll be fun. No stakes.”

Evan opened his mouth to argue. Of course there were stakes. What if he ruined the crepe? What if he flipped it too violently and it flies out of the pan directly onto the floor? _What happens then?_

He paused.

 _Nothing._ Nothing would happen then. Connor would probably laugh, but in that bright happy way that made Evan feel like he was floating. He’d tease him lightly and clean up the mess and they’d still have plenty of perfectly well-made crepes.

No stakes. Just fun.

“Go ahead, take the butter and brush it onto the pan— like you saw me do,” Connor encouraged him.

Evan pressed his lips together, suppressing a smile as he did that.

“And now pour the batter in. You don’t need a lot, just enough to coat the bottom of the pan. Yep, that’s good. And now tilt the pan in a circle so that the batter coats all the edges… yes, perfect.”

Evan grinned up at him and Connor smiled back, all soft and sweet and beautiful.

After a few minutes Evan lifted an end to loosen the crepe and shook the pan without even having to be told. Smirking as Connor told him that was good.

“Okay now just… flip it.”

He took a deep breath and attempted to mimic the movement from earlier. It went up and landed— slightly folded. Evan frowned.

Connor quickly pulled out the edge, fixing it in a second. “That was really good, Ev! The first time I did it it hit the wall.”

Evan’s disappointment at not getting it perfect washed away in an instant. “R-really?”

“Oh, yeah.” Connor smirked and leaned down to kiss him, short and sweet. “I’m proud of you. Do you wanna try again?”

Evan shook his head quickly. It was fun and all and he’s glad he tried, but that didn’t mean his heart wasn’t still pounding from nerves. “Absolutely not. But thank you.”

Connor laughed and nodded, knowing not to push him any further. “Alright, switch places.” They did and he added Evan’s crepe to the pile— giving him a weird sense of pride. Maybe that feeling was why Connor liked cooking so much. Adrenaline via achievement.

Connor was probably an adrenaline junkie, now that Evan thought about it.

He was expertly flipping another crepe when they heard another pair of footsteps and turned to see Heidi standing at the edge of the kitchen.

“What’s all this?” she asked, eyes wide. “Are you making crepes?”

Connor blushed slightly. “I hope that’s okay…”

“That’s great!” she assured him quickly. “Wow. I didn’t know teenagers knew how to make crepes. Or that anybody did, for that matter.” She laughed at her own joke. “That’s impressive.”

Connor’s blush deepened. “Oh. Uh. Thanks.”

Heidi walked over to see what Evan was doing. “You made a double boiler?”

“Oh, uh, I guess? Connor called it a ban-something. He said it’s French.”

“ _Bain marie,_ ” Connor supplied sheepishly. “Double boiler works too. Same thing.”

“Connor speaks fluent French,” Evan told his mom.

Her brows shot up in disbelief. “Really?”

“Uh, yeah. Y’know… I got bored one summer. Same with the crepes thing, actually.” He rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Good for you,” Heidi breathed. “Learning a language and cooking is certainly better than smoking pot out of boredom. That’s what I did at your age.”

Connor’s eyes widened and he turned quickly back to the stove, turning the crepe out.

“You— what?” Evan sputtered.

Heidi giggled and patted her son’s shoulder. “There’s plenty of things you don’t know about me, dear.”

Evan really shouldn’t have been that surprised. He was the result of teen pregnancy, after all. It was unlikely his mother was making great decisions in high school.

Speaking of bad decisions… Jared, Zoe, and Alana all walked into the kitchen, rubbing at their eyes, clearly hung over.

“Breakfast?” Jared asked, barely coherent.

Zoe frowned at her brother. “You made crepes?”

“Your favorite,” he answered, holding the now full plate out to her. “Go put these on the table.”

She took the plate. “Is there—”

“I’ll bring the chocolate in a second.” He looked over her to the other teens. “Jared and Alana, grab the whipped cream and strawberries.”

They all did as they were told and Heidi followed, carrying plates over to the table. Evan went into the hall closet to grab the extra chairs they kept for the rare occasion that they put the leaf in the table. 

When he got back everyone was gathered around, reaching across each other to grab food. Connor hurried to relieve him of one of the chairs and then they joined the others.

Heidi gave them all the obligatory lecture about responsible drinking, not listening when Evan and Connor objected to being included— claiming that they were still people and they still needed to know these things. Have water between every drink, pour it for yourself or watch them make it, keep a hold of your cup, if you put it down get a new one, give your keys to someone sober, have a designated driver, never drink alone, etc. etc. etc. Evan had a feeling she gave the same speech to college freshmen who came into the hospital needing their stomach pumped.

It was relieving though, to not be lectured on drinking in general. She knew it was pointless to say “don’t drink” and that the best way to keep them safe was to tell them how to drink responsibly instead. She really could be a fantastic mom if she had the time.

They got through breakfast with little fanfare, save for Jared’s half-hearted attempts to mock Connor for being secretly soft— quickly cut off when Connor reminded him that Jared had been flirting with him last night. (“I was drunk!” “Whatever you have to tell yourself.”) And dotted with Alana’s profuse gratitude to literally everyone. Evan wondered if anyone had ever been nice to her before.

“ _Alana,_ ” Connor finally stressed on the fifteenth ‘thank you again,’ “ _C'est très bien, vraiment. Nous sommes amis._ ”

Her eyes widened. “ _Amis? Vraiment?_ ”

He rolled his eyes. “ _Évidemment._ ”

She smiled brightly and Zoe snorted. “Jared _a raison. Tu es doux._ ”

Evan was only mildly surprised to hear Zoe speak French.

“Okay, I heard my name!” Jared complained. “What did you say?”

Zoe shook her head. “Nope.”

“What? No! You have to!” He turned to Connor. “What did she say? Were you guys talking about me? That’s not fair!”

Connor raised a brow. “Christ, _tu es ennuyeux._ ”

“Alright,” Heidi stepped in before Jared could yell at him. “No using French to antagonize Jared.”

Connor pressed his lips together and Evan got the distinct impression that he would have said more in French if she was anybody else’s mother but his boyfriend’s.

Evan spoke up. “I think Jared’s forgetting that he still needs Connor to drive him to get his car.”

Jared winced. “Shit.”

“See?” Heidi smirked. “It pays to be nice to people.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the one being nice here and I’m definitely not getting paid,” Connor replied blandly.

“I’m paying you in friendship,” Jared said.

“That means nothing to me.”

“Okay, rude.”

Evan abruptly stood up, collecting his empty plate and bringing it over to the kitchen.

“Evan and Connor cooked so you three get to clean up,” Heidi said, giving Alana, Zoe, and Jared a look that meant they weren’t allowed to argue.

Connor grinned. “Thanks, Ms. Hansen.”

“Call me Heidi, dear.” 

Connor flushed pink and Evan had to fight back the urge to kiss him right then and there. “I’m gonna go get ready,” he announced instead, making an awkward gesture over his shoulder and running upstairs. 

When he got to his room he heard footsteps coming after him and turned to see Connor shutting the door behind him. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, that whole thing was just really surreal. I mean, having friends and a boyfriend and a mom. Or even just… food on the table. Not used to any of that. Especially not all at once.”

“That makes sense,” Connor nodded. He grabbed Evan’s arms, settling him. “I kind of felt the same, honestly. I’ve never had friends or a boyfriend, either. And Zoe was actually being kind of nice. And I just had no idea how to respond to your mom. Or any of it. I’m glad you left when you did cos it gave me an excuse to go too.”

Evan breathed a sigh of relief. “Me too.” Then he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Connor’s midsection and pressing his cheek against his chest. “I like being able to touch you,” he admitted shyly. He tilted his head up. “And not worrying that you’re gonna figure out how much I like you.”

“Like me?”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Evan rolled his eyes while Connor laughed at his own joke. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but you love me. What does that make you?”

“Smart,” Evan quipped easily, kissing him on the cheek before taking a step back. “I gotta shower.”

“Want help?”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Again. Mother. Downstairs.”

“So is that a yes for when she _isn’t_ downstairs?”

Evan laughed and went into the bathroom. “You are such a teenage boy.”

“You are too. I’ve checked.”

“Oh my god.” Evan had the unfortunate experience of literally watching himself turn red as he was facing his reflection. He turned away quickly before taking off his clothes and he very pointedly did not look in the direction of the mirror again until he was safely behind the shower curtain.

He took the fastest shower of his life, anxious about taking too much time and the people downstairs suspecting that something was going on when it _wasn’t._ He was stood in front of the sink with just a towel wrapped around his hips when Connor came in, shirtless and pressing himself against Evan’s back.

Evan watched in the mirror as Connor placed a soft kiss to his neck and buried his face there. “You smell good,” he said.

“Showers will do that,” Evan teased, warming all over as Connor wrapped his arms around him.

Connor stuck his tongue out, lapping at the wet skin and Evan had to bite down on his lip to keep from moaning. He turned around in Connor’s embrace, simultaneously to get away from his reflection before he saw how stupid his face looked, and to settle his hands on Connor’s chest. He went onto his toes and kissed him passionately, not minding at all when Connor backed him into the counter.

Until his mom called his name from downstairs.

Evan pulled away so fast he gave them both whiplash. “Just a second!” he shouted, voice surprisingly calm despite the fact that he felt like he just fell forty feet through the air (and he would know). He looked back to his boyfriend with wide eyes.

Connor just huffed, squeezing his hips. “I need to shower.”

“I need to get dressed.”

“Well, you’re welcome to just walk around completely nude. I wouldn’t mind.”

“Connor—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. People downstairs.” He rolled his eyes as he pulled away with a teasing smile. “One day we’ll live together all by ourselves and then what will your excuse be?”

Evan did his best to keep his gasp from being audible, and he was grateful that Connor was turning towards the shower and couldn’t see his shocked expression. _One day we’ll live together._ Evan wanted those words tattooed across his body. _One day we’ll live together._

“I guess I won’t have one,” he managed, earning a laugh. He wanted to ask a thousand different questions. _How do you know? Why would you want to be with me? Where will we live? What will we do? Can we start right now?_ But Connor was getting in the shower and Evan needed to see what his mom wanted and they were both still tragically seventeen.

He got dressed and went downstairs. _One day we’ll live together._

“I have class tonight.”

Evan short-circuited, blinking back into reality. “Right, I know,” he said quietly, glancing over her shoulder to his friends who were gathering up their blankets and pillows from last night.

“Will you be okay here by yourself?”

“I’m always okay,” he lied. And she knew it was a lie. She was the one who found his body five years ago after all.

But she doesn’t know about all the times since, and she pretends to believe that the worst of it is over: that the medicine is working and he’s making friends and everything is better now. Evan doesn’t have the heart or the motivation to correct her. _Why bother?_

 _She’s trying,_ Evan reminded himself, replaying last night and this morning. There weren’t many parents that would be this understanding and accommodating for a bunch of drunk teenagers. But, to be fair, Heidi was also decades younger than most parents.

She was still in her early thirties for god’s sake. Of course she was understanding of stupid teenage mistakes, she was still making them herself. And of course she wasn’t very good at this whole parenting thing, she still needed a parent herself.

“Okay, well, I’m headed out then. I need to get to the library before class. There’s still money on the fridge if you need it.” And then she was kissing him on the head and leaving.

_So much for having a mom._

“You okay, Evan?” Zoe asked, and Evan’s head snapped up. She was looking at him with concern. “We didn’t say anything to her about you and Connor if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Yeah we kept our lips sealed about your secret gay love.” Jared laughed at his own not-at-all funny joke.

Evan huffed and glared at him. “It’s not a secret.”

Alana frowned. “Am I the only one who didn’t know you two were dating before last night? Evan, I didn’t even know you were gay. You know I’m vice president of the GSA at our school right?”

Jared snorted. “Of course you are.”

She didn’t seem to get that he was making fun of her. She just smiled proudly and Jared was so confused that he forgot to make any more bad jokes at her expense.

“Don’t, um, take it personally, Alana,” Evan said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “No one knew. I only just kind of figured it out. And Connor and I only started dating yesterday.”

 _Dating._ The word felt so foreign in his lips. The whole sentence was just surreal.

“Really?” Alana asked, tilting her head. “But you two already seem so comfortable with each other. I was starting to think you’ve been friends your whole lives and I’d just never noticed or something.”

“Me too, honestly,” Evan mumbled.

“They’re U-haul lesbians,” Jared laughed.

Evan just rolled his eyes and turned on his heel, heading back upstairs. On his way up he got a notification from the CVS app that his new prescription had been filled and silently thanked whoever was listening. He’s not sure how much longer he could go on feeling like this— with or without Connor. His brain just wouldn’t quit being an asshole and it was getting exhausting.

He heard Zoe telling Jared he was being a dick, but Evan really couldn’t be bothered to care. He went back to his room and fell into his bed. A few minutes later he heard the shower switch off and he turned to see his boyfriend standing in the doorway, wet and with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips.

_Well, that’s one reason to live._

Connor’s brow furrowed. “One reason to live?” he asked, and Evan realized he’d accidentally said that out loud.

“Nothing. It’s stupid.”

“No it’s not.” Connor didn’t miss a beat. “What happened?”

“Literally nothing. My mom just left again.”

“Okay, so, something.”

Evan rolled his eyes and turned onto his side. “Can I suck your dick?” he asked innocently.

Connor crossed his arms. “You are not blowing me because you’re mad at your mom. I’m not a coping mechanism.”

Evan pouted. “It would make me feel better though.”

Connor glared at him and disappeared into the bathroom again. When he came back he was fully dressed. He went over to the bed and nudged Evan out of the way so that he could lie down beside him. “If you weren’t upset right now, I’d be mad at you,” he stated calmly.

Evan huffed and closed his eyes. “I know. Sorry.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t see you as a coping mechanism.”

“Okay.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“No, but I’m trying to.” At least he was honest.

Evan reached forward and tucked a damp lock of hair behind his ear. “I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anything, actually. Which is kind of scary for me because I’m terrified of losing people. It’s sort of the only thing I ever think about. And at least when I was alone there was no one who could leave me. But this morning… this morning was really good. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted. And I already didn’t know how to deal with it, but then my mom just left again and it sort of came crashing down on me. She just keeps leaving, over and over again. It’s like she’s not even here. And if she can leave, what’s stopping you from leaving? Or Jared or Zoe or Alana? Everyone leaves me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Ev.”

“You can’t make promises like that.”

“Yes I can.” Connor’s voice was defiant, making Evan’s eyes flicker up to meet his. “I love you.”

“Even if we can’t always have sex?” Evan asked smally. Because that was really the whole point in asking if he could give head. Yeah, it would make him feel better. But it was also something he could give Connor that might make him stick around longer.

Connor huffed out a small breath, reading Evan’s mind again. “Evan, we could never have sex again and I’d still want to be with you for the rest of my life. I love you for you, not your lack of gag reflex.”

That had the desired effect of getting Evan to laugh. He rolled forward into Connor’s arms and kissed him.

When they pulled back Connor had a little teasing smirk on his lips. “The lack of gag reflex is just an added bonus.”

Evan snorted and buried his face in his chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but I love you.”

“That’s even more ridiculous.” Evan tilted his head up and immediately decided he liked the sight of Connor looking down at him from this close. “I love you too.”

“C’mon,” Connnor squeezed his side. “Let’s go take the drunks home.”

They went back downstairs to find their friends gathered in the living room, seemingly in the middle of a conversation. Jared looked like he wanted to say something when he spotted them, but he caught Zoe’s eye and his mouth snapped shut. Evan figured he wouldn’t mind keeping Zoe around if it meant less crude jokes from Jared. At least some of the time. Evan doubted Zoe could really keep Jared under control for very long. No one could do that.

Once they were all in the car and on the road though, Evan was grateful for Jared’s inability to shut up. At least it meant Evan did not have to attempt to carry on a conversation. They all knew how that endeavor would inevitably turn out.

“Evan,” Alana spoke up suddenly, and Evan startled slightly. He hadn’t been paying a bit of attention to whatever the three of them had been talking about. “How old _is_ your mom?”

The emphasis confused him for a second. Apparently they’d been talking about Heidi. “Uh, 34?” he answered hesitantly. “She was 17 when she had me so…” he shrugged, not knowing how to finish that thought. _‘So I’m kind of the reason her life is shit,’_ didn’t really seem appropriate.

Connor’s head whipped around to give him a worried look and Evan got the distinct impression his boyfriend was reading his mind again. He very carefully did not look back at him.

“That’s why she’s so cool,” Jared finished for him. Which, Evan didn’t really agree, but whatever. There’s a difference between being a cool mom and just being too busy to be a real mom.

They pulled up next to Jared’s car and he shoved at Alana so that she would get out too. “C’mon Alana, your house is on my way,” he offered.

“Oh, okay, thanks, Jared!” she replied brightly. “And thank you again, Connor and Evan. You guys really saved my life.”

“Don’t mention it,” Connor waved her off, though he sounded kind of distracted. “Good luck with your dads.”

Alana grimaced. “Thanks, I’ll need it.” 

And then Jared was shutting the door and it was just the three of them again. Zoe shifted in her seat and Evan expected her to say something, but she just crossed her arms and stared out the window as they turned off of Matt Holtzer’s street.

They weren’t far from the Murphys' house, which Evan supposed is why Jared offered to take Alana with him. As soon as they were in the driveway Zoe was flinging her door open and more-or-less sprinting towards the house. Evan watched her go, wondering what happened between Heidi leaving and now that put Zoe in a bad mood.

He was about to ask Connor, but when he turned he found his boyfriend staring at him worriedly. “Why didn’t you tell me your mom had you at 17?” he asked.

Evan blinked, trying to figure out why that was important. Was being the product of teen pregnancy a deal breaker or something? “Does— does it matter?” he asked, a little afraid of the answer.

“What? No. I mean, I made all those stupid comments about teen pregnancy yesterday and you didn’t say anything. I didn’t mean to—”

“I’m not, like, offended?” Evan shook his head. “I mean, I agree. Teen pregnancy does ruin your life. I think my mom and I are evidence of that.”

“Evan, you did not ruin your mom’s life.”

“Well, no, it’s not my fault that she let a teenage boy go without a condom. Like, I don’t blame myself for her stupid choices. But I am the product of her stupid choices so.” He shrugged. “I’m a mistake. End of story.”

“You’re not—” Connor groaned, hitting his head against the headrest. “Evan, you did not ruin your mom’s life. If she didn’t want you, she wouldn’t have kept you. And it’s obvious how much she loves you.”

“Yeah, but like, if I hadn’t been born she would have graduated high school and gone to college. And she wouldn’t be working herself half to death to try to keep me alive and having to take night classes on top of that because even with her eighty hour weeks we’re still barely scraping by. And I make it worse by being broken as well as alive. Like she doesn’t just have to pay the mortgage and buy food but she also has to pay hospital bills from all the times I tried to kill myself, and then pay for a therapist and for medication in the vain hope that I’ll stop doing that.”

Connor kind of looked like he wanted to throw up. “‘All the times’?” he repeated.

Evan was so tired. He was so tired of feeling like this. He couldn’t even work up the emotion to tell him in any other tone but detached. “When I was nine I ran into oncoming traffic and got hit by a car and I was almost paralyzed. You know about when I was twelve— that’s the only one my mom knows for sure was an attempt, to be fair. At fifteen I jumped off a bridge and nearly drowned but some asshole in a boat saved me. And then last summer,” he held up his arm.

Connor looked so horrifically sad and Evan didn’t know what to do with that. There was a long silence.

“Sorry,” Evan eventually said.

Connor just closed his eyes and shook his head.

“I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me—”

“Shut up,” Connor snapped and Evan pressed his lips together. “Evan, I need you to understand that nothing you can tell me will ever make me want to leave you.” He said it with so much conviction, Evan almost couldn’t question it. “I’m not mad and I don’t hate you and I don’t think any less of you or whatever the fuck else your asshole brain is trying to tell you right now. I’m just fucking sad, okay? You just told me that you almost died four different times plus the first day of school. That’s fucking terrifying, okay? I’m really fucking scared and sad and I don’t know what to do.”

Evan realized Connor was crying then, and he felt tears spring to his own eyes. “Me too,” he admitted, voice small.

Connor looked over to him. “I know I love you. And I’m sorry that isn’t enough. I wish I could just love you and all of the bad shit in your head would just fuck off.”

“It is sometimes,” Evan argued. “This has been the best week of my life.” Which was sad, in hindsight. He’s cried multiple times every single day this week. But really, it was less than he normally did. And he usually didn’t have this much happiness in between. “You make me really happy.”

Connor choked on a broken sort of laugh. “You make me really happy too, Ev.” He reached out and laced their fingers together. 

“This isn’t going to be easy,” Evan said, and it was a crushing realization. For the first time in a long time he actually wanted to live, but living was fucking difficult for him— for both of them.

“But it’ll be worth it,” Connor said, and Evan believed him. 

They went inside and straight through to Connor’s room. Evan could hear Connor’s parents talking somewhere else in the house and Zoe might have been in that conversation too, but the two boys ignored it in favor of crawling into Connor’s bed and turning on mindless television. 

Evan stayed half in Connor’s lap, mostly as a result of Connor seeming to want to hold him as close as humanly possible, and Evan got the distinct feeling Connor was trying to physically protect him from himself and the rest of the world. If he closed his eyes and focused only on Connor, he could almost pretend to believe it was working.

At some point he fell asleep, and when he woke up it was to Connor gently pushing his hair out of his face. “Not to be that guy, but we do have homework due tomorrow.”

Evan pouted and shoved his face more firmly into Connor’s chest. “I don’t wanna.”

“Okay.”

Evan frowned. He knew that Connor would let him get away without doing his homework, and right now that was really tempting, but he also knew he’d be freaking out by tonight or tomorrow morning if he let that happen. Which was stupid. It was just homework, and there were almost no consequences to not doing it. But Evan could not handle that conversation. He liked to talk to his teachers as little as possible, thank you very much.

He forced himself to sit up and look around in search of a clock. The TV was still playing some episode of _Parks & Rec_, and Evan distantly hoped Connor hadn’t also fallen asleep and missed whatever was happening in the narrative of the show. Though to be completely honest, Evan wasn’t sure he’d actually paid a single minute of attention to the show since he started watching it with Connor. He couldn’t remember it now, at least.

“It’s nearly one,” Connor said, and Evan looked back to him. “Sorry, I don’t have a clock in here.”

“How do you just not have a clock in your room?”

Connor held up his phone in answer.

“That doesn’t count.” Evan just sat there for a few more seconds, trying to figure out what the hell he was doing. He didn’t even have his backpack here. How was he supposed to do homework? Why were they at Connor’s house anyway? Wasn’t the one and only perk of having an absent mother supposed to be getting the house to himself? “Are your parents here?”

“Yeah. Zoe told them yesterday that she was spending the night at her friend’s house, so they aren’t mad or anything. I think they want you to stay for dinner again.”

“My backpack is at home.”

“Okay, so we’ll go back to your house.”

“I don’t want to disappoint your mom.”

“She won’t be that disappointed.”

Evan gave him a blank look.

Connor sighed. “Okay, so, we’ll go back to your house and do homework and then come back here for dinner.”

“That sounds like a lot of unnecessary driving. Jared always complains about gas—”

“Evan,” Connor cut him off. “Do I look like Jared?”

Evan wrinkled his nose. “No.”

“And have I ever even mentioned the price of gas?”

He looked down to his nails which were bitted down to the beds, cracked and bleeding in places. “No,” he answered quietly. “I just don’t want to be a—”

He was cut off as Connor grabbed him by the waist and dragged him back down so that he was lying across Connor's body, arms trapped in between their chests and faces only inches apart. “You’re not a burden. I love you and I like that I get to take care of you. Because you deserve to be taken care of. And I would literally drive to fucking Mexico right now if that’s what you wanted to do. I would not think twice about it. The only thing I’m worried about is leaving you alone. Like, that’s not fucking going to happen today or possibly anytime soon. So please, just tell me what you want to do. Even if that’s going back to bed and I’ll do all of your homework for you tomorrow morning.”

Evan huffed. “I wouldn’t ask that of you.”

“Evan—”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He moved his arms to the pillow either side of Connor’s head, and felt Connor’s hands move to rest on his hips now that he didn’t have to hold him steady. “Thank you for saying all that. I needed to hear it. And you’re right, I really shouldn’t be left alone right now. Not that I think I’ll kill myself or anything, but I’m just… I don’t know.”

Connor rolled them so that they were on their sides and waited for Evan to continue.

“I… think your plan makes the most sense.”

“Okay.” Connor squeezed his hip. “Do you want to sleep there or here tonight?”

“Here is fine, if— if that’s okay.”

“I wouldn’t offer if it wasn’t,” Connor assured him. “The only thing I’m not gonna let you do is sleep alone. Even if that means I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“I’m never gonna make you sleep on the floor, Connor.” Evan rolled his eyes. “I like sleeping with you. You make me feel safe.” He felt Connor’s breath hitch and grip tighten. “Usually it’s hard for me to sleep cos my brain just won’t ever shut up. But you just… you quiet all that. I think I’ve caught up on a decade’s worth of lost sleep just this week.”

“Good,” he said simply. “Do you wanna go now?”

Evan pressed forward to kiss him, bringing his hand up to run through Connor’s hair. Connor seemed surprised at first, but he quickly got with the program, wrapping his arm around his waist as he hummed against his lips.

His eyes were wide when Evan pulled away. “Sorry, just had to do that first.”

“Don’t ever apologize for kissing me,” Connor replied, a bit breathless, and then kissed him again.

Both their phones buzzed at the same time and their brows furrowed as they pulled them out of their pockets. Connor had a text from an unknown number; Evan had a text from Jared.

**[Jared Kleinman created a group with You, Connor Murphy, Zoe Murphy, and Alana Beck]**

**Jared:** _hey losers_

**[Jared Kleinman changed the group name to “FR E SH A VOCA DO”]**

**Alana:** _Fresh avocado?_

 **Zoe:** _IT’S AN AVOCADO!_

 **Jared:** _THANKS!_

 **Connor:** _oh no_

 **Evan:** _I’m confused._

 **Alana:** _Me too._

 **Jared:** _did anyone get grounded_

 **Alana:** _I told my dads I fell asleep at the library and they got mad but not as mad as they would be if they knew the truth. I feel bad about lying but I don’t have time to be grounded._

 **Jared:** _i dOnT HAve TiMe tO bE GrOUndEd_

 **Connor:** _don’t be a dick kleinman_

 **Jared:** _sry alana_

 **Jared:** _im jealous of ur social life_

 **Jared:** _I MEAN_

 **Jared:** _NO IM NOT IM INSANELY COOL AND HAVE LOTS OF FRIENDS_

 **Connor:** _loll_

 **Alana:** _It’s not a social life. It’s a volunteer until my eyes bleed life._

 **Jared:** _we should all hang out_

 **Jared:** _or something_

 **Jared:** _idk_

 **Connor:** _real smooth_

 **Zoe:** _I’m free rn but I don’t have a ride cos Evan and Connor have been in his room with the door shut for the last two hours._

 **Connor:** _jfc zo we were asleep_

 **Connor:** _since y’know we had to get up in the middle of the night to save your drunk ass_

 **Evan:** _We were about to leave to go do homework._

 **Jared:** _““““““homework””””””_

 **Evan:** _:(_

**[Connor Murphy changed the group name to “jared hit on me last night”]**

**Jared:** _AFSKDJFLDSNCSDF_

 **Jared:** _i also hit on evan tho so ur not special_

 **Zoe:** _loll same_

 **Connor:** _WAIT WHAT_

 **Zoe:** _Get over it your boyfriend’s hot and I was drunk._

 **Jared:** _LMAO_

 **Jared:** _is evan dying rn?????_

 **Connor:** _he might be hyperventilating_

 **Connor:** _hold on._

Evan looked up from his phone with wide eyes and he could immediately tell that Connor was trying very hard not to laugh at him. Which at least was better than the alternative which was being paranoid and defensive and angry at his sister.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asked.

Evan swallowed. “She, um, asked if I was bi? And then offered to make out with me to check.”

Connor gave him an incredulous look. “Are you bi?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Wait, did you check?”

“Absolutely not, Connor, what—”

“Sorry, sorry, just—” He tapped his head in explanation and Evan nodded in understanding. “Anything else or?”

Evan bit his lip. “She sort of admitted to having a crush on me? Though probably like a long time ago. She probably doesn’t even remember that part. She was really out of it and mostly just complaining about how men are garbage or whatever.”

“Yeah, I knew she had a crush on you a while back. We got in a huge fight about it.”

Evan tried to process that but he couldn’t, so he just shook his head and looked down to his phone as it lit up with more messages. 

**Alana:** _Am I the only one who didn’t hit on Evan last night?_

 **Zoe:** _I call bullshit. I don’t know a single girl who has never tried to flirt with Evan. Except for lesbians._

 **Alana:** _Well I’m not a lesbian but I’m asexual so._

 **Evan:** _I’m so confused!!!_

 **Jared:** _WAIT IS ANYBODY HERE STRAIGHT_

 **Zoe:** _unfortunately._

 **Jared:** _damn_

 **Jared:** _well u can be our token hetero_

 **Zoe:** _what an honor._

 **Evan:** _Wait, Jared, I thought you hooked up with that girl this summer?_

 **Jared:** _um wow evan biphobic much?_

 **Evan:** _You never told me that!!_

 **Jared:** _IVE TRIED TO GET IN YOUR PANTS LIKE A HUNDRED TIMES_

 **Connor:** _jfc_

 **Evan:** _I thought those were just bad jokes._

 **Jared:** _wait so if you had known….............._

 **Connor:** _STOP_

 **Evan:** _Absolutely not._

 **Jared:** _damn_

 **Evan:** _I’m still pretty sure you’re all making fun of me._

 **Zoe:** _We’re not._

**[Zoe Murphy changed the group name to “Evan Hansen is Hot as Hell”]**

**Jared:** _damn zoe we really out here shooting our shot and he’s turning us down for hot topic_

 **Connor:** _i’m gonna kill you_

 **Alana:** _Jared, you were practically throwing yourself at Connor last night._

 **Jared:** _u rite u rite_

**[Jared Kleinman changed the group name to “i’d sit on connor murphys face”]**

**Connor:** _JFC_

 **Evan:** _Please stop._

 **Zoe:** _dear god why_

**[Alana Beck changed the group name to “A Civil Discussion”]**

**Connor:** _alana are you still drunk?_

 **Alana:** _Wasn’t Jared trying to make plans?_

 **Jared:** _OH YEAH_

 **Jared:** _ye im bored and also need help on spanish hw_

 **Alana:** _I could also use help on my French homework…_

 **Zoe:** _same_

 **Connor:** _Sounds like I’m getting used._

 **Connor:** _Who’s gonna do my science homework?_

 **Jared:** _ur the one fucking tree boi over there_

 **Evan:** _:(_

**[Evan Hansen changed the group name to “jared’s just jealous”]**

**Zoe:** _LMAO EVAN_

 **Jared:** _shut up zoe so are you_

 **Zoe:** _but you’re like double jealous_

 **Jared:** _rip_

**Connor:** _i_ _want you all to know that Evan is very red rn cos he meant Jared is jealous of his tree facts_

**Zoe:** _OH MY GOD HE’S TOO PURE_

 **Jared:** _u don’t deserve him murphy_

 **Connor:** _trust me i know_

 **Evan:** _:(_

 **Alana:** _So you guys want to meet for coffee in like an hour?_

 **Zoe:** _FairPour?_

 **Connor:** _we are not going all the way to Fairpoint so that you can spend $10 on a latte and take a picture in front of a river._

 **Evan:** _Are you guys gonna make fun of me if I suggest Tree Town?_

 **Jared:** _LMAO_

 **Jared:** _nah but u rite. everything else is chain_

 **Jared:** _u assholes are prob dunkin over starbucks_

 **Connor:** _starbucks is shit_

 **Zoe:** _he doesn’t actually think that he’s just being antagonistic_

 **Connor:** _betrayal_

 **Alana:** _So let’s plan to meet at Tree Town Cafe at 2? Sound good?_

 **Connor:** _yep (x3)_

 **Jared:** _yeet_

 **Alana:** _Great!_

Connor had asked him like ten times in the middle of all that if Evan was sure he wanted more social interaction today, but Evan had reassured him every time because something about being added to a group chat had lifted his spirit back up. Also the ego boost wasn’t too bad, even if it was weird that his oldest friend and his boyfriend’s sister apparently wanted to have sex with him. Though Evan figured he was probably safe to assume Zoe wouldn’t actually wouldn’t want that anymore even if he were bi. That had to be breaking some sort of sibling rule.

“You look shaken,” Connor observed.

Evan glanced up at him. “So do you.”

He shrugged. “I told you I’m not used to having friends or making plans.”

“Okay, well, me too. Also what Zoe and Jared were saying kinda freaked me out. Like. People aren’t supposed to notice me? I try very hard to make sure no one notices me.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Of course straight girls notice you, Evan. You’re cute and not a pervert and you have a great ass—” Evan scoffed and hit his arm. Connor laughed and went on unrepentantly. “I’ve watched girls openly flirt with you since sophomore year. It kinda gave me hope since you always looked terrified and ran away.”

Evan wrinkled his nose. “Add it to the list of things that should have made me realize I was gay sooner.”

Connor leaned over to kiss him at that, and Evan reached his hand up to keep him in place, but then there was a knock on the door and they had to pull away as Connor told whoever it was to come in.

Zoe was standing in the doorway. “The ‘x3’ included me right?”

It looked like it took Connor a second to figure out what she was talking about. “Yes?”

“Okay, yeah, cool. I figured. I don’t know.” She looked down to her shoes and then off to the side. “You aren’t like mad at me or whatever?”

“What? For hitting on my boyfriend?” Zoe nodded. “Were you even sure he was my boyfriend at the time?” She shook her head quickly. “Great so you were drunk and upset and had a cute guy in front of you. What else were you supposed to do, right?” he gave her a little teasing smile.

Zoe’s eyes were wide. “Really?”

He shrugged. “I mean, don’t do it again obviously cos that’s kinda weird.”

She snorted. “Obviously.” She stood there for a second longer, shuffling her feet. “And… you don’t mind me coming? Cos like… they’re your friends, so. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to _take_ them or anything I just…”

“We can have the same friends, Zo.”

She picked her head up. “Really?” And she looked so terribly hopeful, Evan realized that she really _didn’t_ have any other friends. Not good ones, anyway, who wouldn’t abandon her drunk at a party.

“They really only just became my friends, anyway,” Connor said, and their eyes met and they seemed to understand each other for the first time in a long time. Then Connor felt the need to break the tension by saying, “We can’t share a boyfriend though. I gotta draw the line somewhere.”

Evan promptly choked on his own spit while Zoe rolled her eyes. “Yeah, alright. I deserved that,” she said.

Evan shook his head. “I didn’t.”

Zoe laughed and turned on her heel to go back to her room as Connor called after her, “We have to go by Evan’s house though so we have to leave soon!”

“Okay!” she shouted back brightly.

“Oh,” Evan mumbled suddenly, twisting his shirt into knots.

Connor’s brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just— I remembered I need to get my prescription? The new one? Usually my mom would get it but I haven’t even told her I got a new one and she’ll ask a lot of questions and besides she won’t be able to go to the pharmacy until tomorrow and then I won’t see her until Tuesday anyway so I don’t know what to do—”

“We can stop at the pharmacy,” Connor offered simply.

“But Zoe—”

“So we’ll go after dinner.”

Evan frowned. “I’m sorry you have to keep taking care of me. I’m so useless. I can’t do anything—”

“Stop,” Connor cut him off quickly. “I _like_ taking care of you, first off. And you’re not useless and you can do plenty of things. You’re about to help us with our science homework, right? You’re really great with all of that stuff. You even had a whole conversation with my _dad_ about _pollution._ Which is not a thing most people without a college degree can do, by the way. And you work well with kids and you can climb trees like fucking Tarzan and you take really impressive pictures even with just an iPhone…” He grabbed Evan’s waist and pulled him into his lap. “And you make me really fucking happy. Which literally no one else can do.”

Evan was a deep shade of crimson by the time Connor finished. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Also, while we’re listing your skills, you give really fucking fantastic head—”

“Okay!” Evan said loudly, laughing and wriggling out of his embrace. “There has been too much talk about my sex appeal already today.” 

Connor laughed at that. “Alright, fair enough. But I stand by my statements.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Noted. Just please for the love of _god_ do not tell Jared that I don’t have a gag reflex.”

He scrunched his face up. “God, no. Can you imagine?”

“I’d really rather not. No one ever needs to know that but you.”

That put a little pleased smile on Connor’s face. “Ever?”

Evan bit the inside of his cheek. “Is this the part in the story where I’m supposed to admit that I’m already planning our wedding?”

Connor grinned brilliantly. “The story?”

“I’ve decided this is some next level romance novel stuff,” Evan replied blandly. “We haven’t even known each other a week.”

Connor blinked slowly, like he was only just processing that. “It feels like longer.”

“Because normally when you say you’ve known someone for a week that’s like… maybe a few hours of actually interacting with them? But we’ve spent more time together than apart. And a lot has happened in that time. You’ve… seen all of me, I guess.”

Connor frowned. “I haven’t had a really bad day yet.”

Evan reached forward to tuck his hair behind his ear. “But I’ve seen flashes. And I saw it well enough on Monday or in first period on Friday. I’m not going anywhere, Connor. You didn’t run away and neither will I. I’m not scared of you.”

Connor looked sort of breathless and Evan wondered if he’d ever be able to say that and Connor not react so strongly. So many people were scared of Connor. Even his own family. Evan never wanted to be one of them. He wouldn’t be. He could see who Connor really was and he knew he’d never hurt him.

He reached out and took his hand. “The way I see it, we have two options: be together forever or break up. And I can’t imagine not wanting to be with you.”

“Me too,” Connor admitted.

“So what’s the point in not talking about the future— our future? Because some made up dating rule book says we’re not supposed to? I think we’ve already broken most of the rules.”

“Yeah.”

“Besides,” Evan added hesitantly. “It helps? Imagining a future with you? It makes it seem more real and like… possible.”

“Yeah, me too,” Connor repeated, and he squeezed his hand. “Fuck the rule book.” He leaned forward and kissed him again, then they got up together to put on their shoes.

Connor was slinging his bag over his shoulder when Zoe reappeared wearing a completely different outfit. Evan sort of wanted to ask why she felt the need to change, but he didn’t want to seem weird so he forced himself to look anywhere but at her dress.

“You changed,” Connor said and Evan let out a little breath of relief. “Who’re you trying to impress at Tree Town Cafe?”

Zoe rolled her eyes. “No one. I just felt like changing. What I was wearing wasn’t going out clothes.”

“ _‘Going out clothes’?_ ” Connor repeated, squinting at her like she’d gone insane.

“I heard once that the perk of having a gay brother was that he’s supposed to understand these things,” she replied dryly.

“Don’t stuff me into your box.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

They laughed the same laugh and then Connor took Evan by the hand as he grabbed his keys. “Alright, let’s go before we get a lecture from Alana about being late.”

They went down the stairs together as Connor and Zoe launched into a debate on whether Jared was gonna be over excited and get their early, or try to act cool by showing up late on purpose.

Cynthia was in the entryway, observing their jubilant little group with wide eyes. “What’s going on?” 

“We’re gonna go meet some friends for coffee and get homework done,” Zoe explained.

“All of you?” she asked.

“Yep,” Connor confirmed, shoving his hands in his pockets and hunching in on himself just enough to make Evan feel the need to press against him slightly in reassurance.

“Well that sounds lovely!” She looked well and truly over the moon about it. She kind of had the same expression Connor did whenever Evan smiled at him. Like all their dreams were coming true. “Will you be home for dinner?”

Connor sighed at her hopeful tone, “Sure, Mom.”

She grinned. “Wonderful! You too, Evan, I hope?”

“O-oh, uh, y-yeah, yes. If— if that’s okay?”

“Of course! We love having you here, dear.”

Evan thought that was kind of weird, considering he’s only been over for dinner once before. But he supposed that dinner had gone well, and Zoe and Connor made it seem like dinners usually didn’t go that well. _That’s a lot of pressure._

“Alright, we gotta go,” Zoe said, getting down the rest of the stairs. 

“Okay, well,” Cynthia stepped aside as they all passed. “Stay safe!”

“Will do,” Connor said quickly, grabbing Evan’s hand again and ushering them out the door before his mother could say anything else.

They hurried to Connor’s car and Zoe’s phone started ringing before Evan could even start to panic about conversation topics.

“Hello?” she spoke with the phone to her ear and Connor glanced at her curiously as he backed out of the driveway. “Oh. No, I can’t—” She sounded like she was barely holding back a sigh. “It’s nothing like that. I’m just stuck at home. You know how my parents are… Yeah… I mean, I’m sorry… It’s Sunday why are you even—? … Sheesh, okay, sorry I asked. No, I’m serious—” She cut herself off and pulled the phone back, staring at a blank screen.

“What was that?” Connor asked mildly.

Zoe looked like she was about to snap at him, but she caught herself, seeming to remember all at once that she wasn’t actually mad at him right now. “No one. It’s stupid.”

Evan could tell that his boyfriend wanted to point out that it had to be somewhat important, considering she just lied to whoever it was about being stuck at home. But he pressed his lips together and refocused his attention on the road. 

“I haven’t been to Tree Town in forever,” Zoe said, bouncing slightly in her seat. “Rachel always says it’s lame but I don’t think she’s ever actually been there. Grace and Bella always agree with her though.”

Evan only vaguely recognized those names, but he was pretty sure they were the girls who’d abandoned her at the party last night. Connor was clearly itching to make some comment about that. “It doesn’t even have— anything to do with trees,” Evan said quickly before Connor could speak. “I don’t know why they named it that. It’s— it’s just a regular cafe?”

“You’re so right,” Zoe agreed.

“Their three-year-old named it,” Connor offered with a small shrug. “I guess because it’s right next to Ellison. But they thought it was cute and just went with it.”

Zoe studied her brother’s profile. “How do you know that?”

“I asked,” he replied blandly.

She was incredulous. “You just went into a place called ‘Tree Town Cafe’ by yourself on your own volition? And then proceeded to have a conversation with the owners? About their kids?”

“I’m starting to realize that constantly telling people to fuck off has given everyone a really warped sense of my personality,” Connor mumbled. “What? Do you think I’d walk into some family-run cafe and trash the place?”

“No,” Zoe said stubbornly. “I didn’t think you’d walk into a family-run cafe.”

Connor glanced at Evan and then back to the road, answering his sister quietly, “I spent a lot of time at Ellison. It’s the closest coffee place by the trailhead parking lot.”

Evan smiled and bit his lip to keep from telling him how adorable that was. They were pulling onto his road now anyway. He took off his seatbelt when they got to his driveway, and wasn’t really all that surprised when Connor did the same.

“We’ll be quick,” Connor told Zoe. “Don’t steal my car.”

“I’m timing you,” she warned them.

Evan’s eyes widened. “Please, uh, don’t say things like that to me,” he said, and Connor immediately glared at his sister.

“Whoops, sorry,” she apologized quickly. “No timer. Just gonna scroll through instagram.” She held up her phone for emphasis, which was already open to the app.

Evan nodded and got out of the car. Connor followed him up to his room and watched him pack a bag. “Y’know you didn’t have to come in with me.”

“I didn’t want to give my sister the opportunity to nag me about us.”

Evan snorted. “You think you’re not about to get nagged by Jared regardless?”

“I don’t feel like being doubly nagged.” He rolled his eyes. “Also,” he suddenly grabbed Evan by the waist and kissed him, “I figured you wouldn’t be into PDA, and we’re about to be with other people for at least two hours.”

Evan smirked, still in Connor’s arms. “You can’t go two hours without kissing me?”

“We’re about to find out.”

He wrapped his arms around Connor’s neck and promptly shoved his tongue into his mouth: Connor’s grip on him tightened as he moaned into the kiss.

Evan pulled away with a small laugh when Connor squeezed his ass. “I think Zoe might have had a point about needing to time us.”

“If we go really fast—”

“Absolutely not.”

Connor pouted but seemed to realize he didn’t have an argument besides being a horny teenager. He followed Evan back downstairs and into the kitchen where Evan took the twenty his mom left on the fridge.

“You don’t need to—” Connor started.

“I’m paying for both of us,” Evan said firmly.

“Evan, that’s—”

“Completely fair? Yes, I agree.”

“Evan, I have—”

“So do I.”

Connor huffed in frustration. “Are you gonna let me finish a sentence?”

“Not if you’re gonna keep arguing with me.”

“I just think that—”

Evan went up on his toes and kissed him to shut him up that time. He pulled back when he was sure Connor was properly breathless. “You’re very sweet. And I understand that you have more money than you know what to do with, and that you like taking care of me or whatever. But I don’t want to feel like a burden. You have to let me pay sometimes. Even if it is just to humor me.”

Connor pressed his lips together, squinting at him. “Can I at least order for us?”

“Oh, obviously. I’m not gonna give myself an anxiety attack just to pretend I’m not useless. That would defeat the purpose entirely.” He rolled his eyes at himself.

“How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not useless before you’ll believe me?”

Evan looked up as if doing calculations in his head and Connor snorted, swatting at his ass. Evan grinned and buried his head in his shoulder. “I might be starting to believe it,” he mumbled, “a little.”

“Good.” He kissed him again.

Evan pulled back and shoved the money into Connor’s pocket. “You better use it,” he warned.

Connor sighed, “Yes, dear.”

When they got back into the car Zoe was tactful enough not to mention how long they took, but that didn’t stop Evan from looking at the clock and worrying about what she thought they were doing.

He felt Connor’s hand land on his thigh and he took it gratefully.

Just like getting anywhere in Penfield, it didn’t take them long to get to Tree Town. Really, they could have gone to Fairpoint and it wouldn’t have made that much of a difference timing wise— the village was still in the same county after all. Evan figured Connor’s argument was mostly on principle of not leaving town just for Zoe’s instagram aesthetic.

Alana and Jared were already there when they arrived, having claimed the corner table with a bench seat. They took the only two chairs so that Evan and the Murphys had to slide down the bench, but Evan didn’t really mind because it meant Connor was sitting much closer to him than he could have otherwise.

“I’m gonna go order us drinks,” Connor said as soon as they had their books laid out. “What do you want?”

Evan shrugged. “I don’t care— uh, not coffee.”

“Okay.” Connor kissed him quickly before standing up and heading over to the counter.

 _So much for no PDA._ He couldn’t even make it five minutes, much less two hours. Evan was surprised to find he really didn’t mind all that much.

“You two are cute,” Jared commented, and Evan could tell he was mocking him, but at the same time he sounded at least a little bit genuine.

That didn’t mean Evan was capable of forming a coherent reply though. He may or may not have made some sort of noise, and then focused his attention on his calculus homework. And then promptly remembered that he hadn’t actually been in class on Friday and he had no idea what he was looking at.

Alana must have recognized the state of panic he was about to enter because she leaned forward and said, “Do you want help with that?” without mentioning exactly _why_ she knew he did.

Evan let out a relieved breath. “Yes, thank you, sorry.”

Zoe wrinkled her nose. “Why did I assume you’d be good at math?”

“I _am_ good at math,” Evan answered automatically, and that claim was evidenced by the fact that he didn’t hesitate. He might not be great in Spanish or English or history, but he was good at math and science. He could say that.

Jared must have shot her a look because Zoe didn’t question it further when Alana continued to explain how to set up the first problem.

Evan glanced up when he noticed his boyfriend still wasn’t back and found him leaning casually against the counter, chatting with the barista while she made their drinks. “Wait, shut up,” he said, forgetting not to be rude as he picked out Connor’s voice through the sound of their various conversations and the low hum of the music filtering through the cafe’s speakers.

Alana, Zoe, and Jared all immediately shut their mouths (probably mostly because they were shocked by the fact that it was _Evan_ who told them to do so). They all turned to watch Connor and realize together that he was speaking fluent Italian.

“What the actual fuck?” Jared let out dryly. “How many languages does he speak?”

“Eight,” Zoe and Evan answered together, getting Alana and Jared to turn back around to stare at them incredulously.

“Including English,” Zoe clarified with a shrug. “Now you know why our parents get so pissed when he tries to throw his life away.”

Evan winced slightly at her word choice. Jared and Alana obviously didn’t know she meant that literally, but he did and he’d rather not be reminded how close he came to never meeting Connor. Zoe caught his eye and mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ to which Evan managed a small nod.

Connor came back over then, handing Evan a blended matcha as he sipped on an iced black coffee. His brow furrowed as he noticed they were all looking at him. “What?” he asked, just defensively enough that Evan put a hand on his knee.

Alana either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Which languages do you speak?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Oh, uh,” Connor blushed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not… I don’t…”

Zoe rolled her eyes. “French, German, Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, Japanese, and Greek.”

“ _Greek?_ ” Jared repeated in utter disbelief. “ _Why?_ ”

Connor shrugged. “Their alphabet looked cool?”

Zoe snorted. “More like you read _Percy Jackson_ in fifth grade and you’re a massive nerd.”

“You _taught yourself Greek in fifth grade?_ ” Alana’s eyes were wide and slightly terrified. “How are you not top of our class?”

“Strangely enough they never tested us on Greek in middle school,” Connor shot back sarcastically. “Also you exist. And I don’t care about being val, so why would I try to take that away from you?” Everyone’s faces went all soft and Connor immediately back tracked. “I mean, because that’s a fuck ton of extra work and school is stupid.”

Evan let out a little amused laugh. “You’re so cute,” he breathed, and then leaned up to kiss his cheek.

Connor turned impossibly redder. “Shut up,” he grumbled, but he squeezed Evan’s hand.

“Is anyone else feeling the oppressive weight of their loneliness right now?” Jared asked.

Zoe and Alana raised their hands with teasing smiles, and Connor rolled his eyes. “Just shut up and show me your Spanish homework, Kleinman.”

So they went on like that. Connor and Evan had a lot more homework than the others because they had all gotten around to doing at least half of it on Saturday while Connor and Evan were making out in the orchard all day. But Zoe and Jared needed a lot more help than the rest of them, so it all sort of balanced out in a weird way. Zoe of course realized that she couldn’t help them as much as they could help her, but they assured her multiple times that it was really fine and they didn’t mind.

Evan was in the middle of explaining the kinematic equations to her when Zoe suddenly yelped and attempted to slide down the bench, hiding her face in her hair. Evan scooted backwards in surprise as they all stared at her.

“Zoe, what the hell?” Connor demanded.

“Shut up!” she hissed, but it was too late.

“Zoe?” a new voice shouted from across the cafe, high pitched and incredulous.

Zoe winced and sat back up, plastering a fake smile on her face. “Oh my gosh, Rachel, hi!” she squealed back, and Evan recoiled away from it and into Connor’s side. He felt Connor’s hand land on his hip.

A junior girl Evan didn’t recognize (Rachel, apparently) sauntered over to their table. “I thought you said you were trapped at home?” she asked, and she was still smiling, but there was venom in her tone.

“Oh, well, they let me out to study…” Zoe made a vague motion to all of their textbooks.

Rachel gave a derisive laugh. “Oh my god, who even _studies_ anymore? That’s so lame.”

Jared looked well and truly flummoxed by this. “Most people?” he answered.

Rachel raised a brow at him, examining him like one might a bug on the bottom of their shoe, but Zoe spoke up before she could deliver some crushing remark towards Jared. “Um, speaking of lame things… I thought you said this place was?”

“Yeah, well,” she crossed her arms. “Josh and Matt wanted to get stoned so Bella and I were at Ellison with them, and obviously Grace tagged along.” She rolled her eyes and laughed, and Zoe managed a small unconvincing one in return. “We’re starving and this is the closest place with food.”

Evan frowned. “You’re not supposed to smoke at Ellison,” he mumbled.

Zoe surreptitiously slapped his arm and he glared at her, but it was too late. Rachel’s (slightly bloodshot) eyes landed on him and narrowed. “Holy shit, you’re that tree boy.”

Evan was starting to realize that he wasn’t as invisible as he thought. And apparently people saw him as ‘tree boy.’ Which wasn’t, y’know, _great_ news. “I— um…”

“Oh my god, that’s _hilarious,_ ” Rachel screeched, turning back to Zoe. “This is totally why you stood us up, isn’t it? You’re hooking up with Evan Hansen. Oh my god, Grace and Bella are gonna kill you. You _know_ they called dibs this summer.”

“Dibs?” Evan repeated incredulously.

“I’m not hooking up with Evan, Rachel, what the hell. And Bella is with Matt now anyway—”

“Um she is not ‘with’ Matt.” She said this like it should have been obvious. “They’re just having sex. Matt told her he’s not looking for a relationship right now.”

“Also why did you assume she’s hooking up with Evan?” Jared spoke up again. “What am I? Chopped liver?”

Rachel gave him another unamused look and Jared shrunk into his chair while Alana patted his shoulder. Rachel turned her gaze on Evan who immediately tried to press himself into Connor and hide. “Do you know who Grace Waters is?” she demanded. “You probably don’t. She’s basically no one.”

Evan wanted to say he did just for that, but he didn’t, and it also sounded like Grace thought he was a thing she could call ‘dibs’ on so he wasn’t really sure how much on her side he was anyway. “Um…”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” She sighed dramatically. “Anyway she’s kind of pretty, and she’s into you so if you want her number…”

Evan felt Connor stiffen behind him and the hand on his hip tightened. “Oh, actually, I’m— I mean I’m not— I don’t— I have a— Con—”

“Leave him alone, Rachel,” Zoe cut him off quickly. “Grace would die if she knew you just said that.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Are you coming back to Ellison with me or not?”

Zoe pulled her chin back. “Um, no?”

Rachel’s brows shot into her hairline. “No?”

“I’m busy.” It was clear Zoe meant for that to come out a lot more firmly than it did. She ducked her head down and refused to make eye contact with the other girl.

“Holy shit, is this because of last night?” she demanded. “Jesus Christ, Zoe, get over yourself.”

Connor growled at that. “Go fuck yourself on Josh’s flaccid dick,” he snapped. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing talking to my sister like that? Or any of us? Fuck off.”

Rachel might be the only person at their school who wouldn’t immediately run away at the look Connor was giving her. “Or what? You’ll kill me, psycho?”

Zoe stood up. “Seriously, Rachel, leave.”

“Yeah,” Jared piped up again. “Zoe has real friends now.”

Rachel sent a death glare to Jared, but he didn’t back down this time. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and turned back to Zoe. “Have fun being a freak just like your brother,” she said coldly, and then she turned on her heel and stormed out of the cafe.

There were a few beats of silence wherein they all just stared at Zoe until she sat back down.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” she breathed.

“Why are you sorry?” Jared said loudly. “She was the one being a massive bitch.”

“She wouldn’t have walked over if I wasn’t here.”

“I don’t know,” Connor said darkly. “She seemed pretty determined to give Evan that girl’s number.”

Zoe glanced over at them. “I’m sorry I cut you off, Evan. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to out yourself to her. She would definitely make sure the whole of Monroe County knew before Monday.”

Evan shrugged. “I mean, I don’t care. My mom’s gotta find out somehow, right?”

“Preferably when you tell her,” Alana said pointedly, giving Evan a stern look.

Jared snorted, “Rachel might have figured it out anyway— considering the death grip Murphy’s got on Evan right now.”

Connor pursed his lips and promptly pulled Evan fully into his lap, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his face in his shoulder. Evan squeaked but otherwise allowed himself to be manhandled, rolling his eyes as Connor kissed the back of his neck.

“So much for no PDA,” he said blandly.

Connor made a noncommittal noise and held him closer.

Alana looked to Zoe. “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but why are you friends with that girl? You didn’t seem to like each other very much.”

Connor poked his head up as Zoe answered. “I don’t know. It’s complicated. I’ve known Rachel since middle school and she kind of… I mean she’s sort of hard to get rid of, I guess? She’d ruin my life— Or I guess she’s going to ruin my life now.” She frowned and looked towards the door, like she was half considering chasing after her and begging for forgiveness.

“How many people really care about her opinion?” Alana asked. “And of those people, how many of them do you care about the opinions of?”

Jared pretended to bow to her. “O Master Alana, grace us with more of your wisdom.”

Zoe sighed, ignoring Jared’s antics. “It’s different for you guys. You’re almost done with this place. I’ve still got two more years.”

Jared’s face twisted. “Not to be… I don’t know, pathetic. But I feel like I should point out that none of us have exactly been at the top of the food chain these last four years— or last twelve.”

“Yeah exactly. Zoe’s got farther to fall,” Connor said. He glanced at his sister warily. “Maybe you shouldn’t risk it. Being a loser in high school sucks.”

Zoe gave him a bored look. “You seem to be doing pretty well for yourself right now.”

Evan flushed while Connor’s hold instinctively tightened around him. “It’s been a good week,” he told his sister. “A series of miracles. Don’t pretend you don’t know what the last three years have been like.”

Zoe looked down to her textbook. “Yeah,” she relented quietly.

“And, y’know, um, same,” Evan added awkwardly. He wriggled free of Connor’s hold so that he could sit next to him and take his hand.

“I haven’t even had a good week,” Alana admitted. “It’s been a good day.”

Jared looked like it was the absolute last thing he wanted to do, but he nodded along in agreement anyway. “Yeah, Connor and Evan getting together might be the best thing that ever happened to us… Which is really fucking sad. But, y’know, I might have gotten myself killed driving drunk last night because I didn’t have anybody there for me.”

“I don’t know what I would have done,” Alana agreed.

“I didn’t have anyone either though,” Zoe argued. “Those people aren’t my friends, and they aren’t looking out for me. They’re just… using me, though I don’t know what for. Or maybe I was using them to make sure…” she drifted off.

“Make sure you weren’t seen as just the psychopath’s brother,” Connor finished for her. “Don’t worry, I get it.”

“I want real friends,” Zoe said firmly. “I’m tired of pretending all the time. It’s just so fake. Everything about my life is fake.”

“We’ll be your friends, Zoe,” Alana said. “I really think this could work. We all fit well together. Jared was smart to make that group chat.”

Jared positively beamed at that. “The Insanely Brilliant Jared Kleinman!”

Connor picked up a crumpled napkin and tossed it at his head. Evan swatted his arm while Jared glared at him and Alana gave them both disapproving looks.

Zoe looked to her brother. “We can’t pretend we haven’t hurt each other before.”

He nodded. “We can talk about that.”

“Really?” She looked so hopeful it was almost heartbreaking, picturing what these two siblings have been through.

“Yes.” It was obvious he was determined not to screw this up for himself.

Jared cracked a smile. “Well isn’t this just a Hallmark moment.”

They all rolled their eyes and appropriately groaned, but silently they were thankful Jared was there to break the tension. They’d be on knife’s edge right now if it wasn’t for him.

“Back to studying?” Alana asked.

“Oh my god, Alana, who even _studies_ anymore?” Jared put on a fake valley-girl tone. “That’s so lame!”

He earned some genuine laughs for that one, and they all shook their heads and got back to what they were working on before the interruption. Evan noticed Zoe’s phone light up with notifications, but she surreptitiously put it on silent and shoved it in her bag. Evan decided not to bring it up right now.

And when they were finally done and packed up, Zoe insisted on taking a picture, swiping away her notifications, she bravely asked the barista to take their photo as they all threw their arms around each other and smiled up at the camera.

She posted it to her instagram on the drive home, tagging all of them with the caption: _‘It’s been a crazy first week, but I found this wonderful group of people at the end of it. I never used to understand what people meant when they said they “fit together.” I didn’t think people did that. But I think I’m starting to get it now.’_

Evan liked the picture right away and took a screenshot. It was lame, he knew, but he sent it to his mom. He risked being hopeful, for once.

**[To: Mom]**

**Evan:** _I think it might be a great year after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I knew a couple in high school who used to talk about getting married, and when I asked them why they replied "we're either gonna get married or break up, and we're not gonna talk about breaking up" and I thought that was like a super healthy mindset to go into a relationship with? And now seven years later they're married so........ Yeah. Highly recommend.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! Part 2 is in the works and before that there will be a shorter story posted. I've made this a series so you can subscribe to that if you don't want to subscribe to me loll ❤︎❤︎ Hmu in the comments in the meantime!


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